


Between Two Trees

by insomniacjams



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gabe meets snowboarders, M/M, That's it, that's the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:39:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniacjams/pseuds/insomniacjams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well," Gabe laughed, glancing awkwardly between Rasmus and Jonne. "I, uh, I fell asleep on him on a plane." He braced himself for the laughter following the statement and continued, "Rasmus came a bit after."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Two Trees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ultramarinus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultramarinus/gifts).



> This is not the kinky threesome you were looking for (sorry). I did actually mean to put a lot of sex in this, it just, like... Didn't happen.
> 
> Also, I know shit all about snowboarding so, uh, sorry, not a lot of that going on there.
> 
> Anyway, this was a bit of a rush job so I hope it turned out okay. It's not beta'd or anything, and there are probably a ton of mistakes/plotholes but I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> This is for [Nene](https://twitter.com/talkativepeach) because she is lovely and a brilliant motivator, and without her this probably would've been unfinished forever.

Gabe hated flying – he dreaded plane rides and often stayed awake through them, and to remedy this as he hopped aboard his flight to Amsterdam in Toronto, he took a couple pills to knock him into a dreamless slumber. 

He was already listing as he tumbled into his seat; it was a window seat, letting in the bright sunlight for the long flight. He winced, pulled the window shut, leaned his head against it, and closed his eyes.

The plane awoke him with a jolt midway through the transatlantic flight. His head rested against an unfamiliar shoulder and his senses were immediately assaulted by the scent of citrus and old books, the sound of a turning page, and the realization that he'd been sleeping on a total stranger.

"Shit," Gabe swore, pulling himself into a more upright position and twisting his neck to work out the kinks. "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you," he said quietly to the stranger in the seat next to him, a soft blush creeping up on his cheeks. 

"It's okay," The guy told him, shrugging as he closed his book. "I wish I could sleep like that on a plane." He had a thick accent that Gabe with his sleep-addled brain could not pin. "Are you from Canada?"

Gabe should not have been surprised; he'd been told time and time again that his accent was wonderful. English was the one subject at school he'd always excelled at, though he wasn't sure if it was natural or because he struggled and studied so hard for his grades, knowing one day he'd end up playing hockey in the NHL and that English was the language that would get him there.

"I'm from Stockholm, Sweden, actually," he told the guy as he tried to shake the remnants of sleep from his system. The plane they were on was en route to Schipol Airport in Amsterdam, where Gabe would catch his connecting flight ten hours later to Stockholm. "My name is Gabe."

"I'm Jonne," the guy introduced himself, taking Gabe's offered hand, though it felt weird to shake like strangers after four hours sleeping on his shoulder. "I am from Helsinki, in Finland." As soon as he said it, the gears whirled to life in Gabe's head again – a Finnish accent, of course. He felt dumb all of a sudden for being unable to pin the familiar accent of Sweden's Nordic neighbour and the home of many players in the NHL.

Gabe tried to stretch out his legs in the cramped seat space, flinching as his knees knock against the back of the seat in front of him. He was not the tallest guy he knew – not even close – but his legs are twisted uncomfortably before him, and Jonne looks even taller than he is, with his legs stretched into the aisle. 

"What were you doing in Canada?" Gabe asked Jonne conversationally, trying to hide how awkward he felt as he tried to rearrange his limbs. 

"I live in Vancouver for a lot of the year," Jonne said, "for work purposes. I am going back to Helsinki for the summer, and to see my family. I love Canada, but I miss the Finnish sauna."

Gabe gave an appreciative laugh; he'd miss a good Finnish sauna too if he'd become accustomed to them before leaving for America. "I know what you mean about missing home sometimes," Gabe said. "I work in the US, in Colorado, during the year but I am also heading home for the summer to see my family." He waited for the inevitable question – for Jonne to ask what he did for a living – but it never came. 

Instead, Jonne asked, "Do you prefer America to Sweden?" 

Gabe laughed. "I think I prefer Canada, actually. I lived in Toronto for a while when I was younger; I miss it sometimes. A lot of my good friends are from those days."

"Canada is pretty nice," Jonne agreed as the flight attendant approached them.

"Would you like the chicken, beef, or vegetarian?" She offered, and Jonne picked the beef while Gabe requested the chicken. "Would you like any beverages?"

"I'll have an orange juice please," Jonne asked politely as Gabe asked for water. 

They ripped apart their meal containers, poking at the rubbery meat and soft rice. "I feel like airplane food gets worse every time I fly, and I fly a lot," Gabe snorted, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork and inspecting it for a long time before tentatively placing it in his mouth. He didn't spit it out right away, so he figured it was safe to eat the whole thing.

"I don't think airplane food can get any worse. I think it's a consistent level of terrible no matter where you go," Jonne groaned, sniffing curiously at his dessert roll before making a face and tossing it into the pile of garbage accumulating at the side of his tray.

"So other than spending your entire summer in the sauna, what are your plans?" Gabe asked curiously, giving up on his food and pushing his tray to the side so that the flight attendant could collect it when she came around with the cart again. 

"I think I'm just going to lay low and relax," Jonne gave Gabe a crooked half-smile he couldn't decipher. "I have a good friend in Norway so I'll go visit him for a bit, and go camping with him and some of his buddies. Maybe if I have time I'll go visit Sweden and Denmark, but I'm mostly just going to take it easy. What about you?'

"Well I've got to see my family of course, but I haven't made any real plans. Some of my friends from Colorado might visit me for a while during the summer, and I have a twin sister who's probably going to become an extra arm for the next few months, but other than that, I'll probably do the same as you and lay low, and hang around Scandinavia if I have the time. Camping sounds like a must-do."

"Camping is always a must-do," Jonne looked offended as Gabe rolled his eyes. "How can you go through summer without camping?"

"I don't know, but I've done it before."

"Man, you haven't been living life right," Jonne laughed, nudging Gabe in the shoulder lightly. "There are some awesome camping spots out in Norway on the west coast. If you've got time later I could mark them on a map for you."

"I mostly just follow my friends when we go camping," Gabe admitted, "but maybe I will check out those spots this summer." 

When Jonne stood up and stretched, Gabe found his eyes following the long stretch of arms upward, and he shook his head, laughing. "You're tall," he observed.

"I'm not that tall," Jonne shrugged. Truth was, he wasn't tall compared to hockey players, but here, on this airplane, it was clear he was even a few inches taller than Gabe, and when it came to average sized people, Gabe knew he fell into the category of "tall". "I wish I was shorter, to be honest with you."

"I wish I was taller," Gabe said. "Let's trade." 

"Man, if only science has come that far," Jonne rolled his eyes. 

They talked about nothing for a few hours: the book Jonne had been reading (All Quiet on the Western Front), the weather in Stockholm and Helsinki, their family (Jonne lived with his brother and sister-in-law, but didn't mention his parents at all), and summer. 

It was nice, that for the first time in a long time, someone spoke to Gabe like a human – like Gabe wasn't just his name, or his pretty face, or the letter on his jersey. It felt good, here on this aircraft that smelled of stale air and biscuits, and he wasn't Gabriel Landeskog, captain of the Colorado Avalanche. He was just Gabe.

By the time the plane began its descent, Gabe had promised Jonne a coffee at the airport during their layovers to make up for drooling on his shoulder for half the flight. "I just remembered," Jonne said guiltily as they exited the plane, "I promised a friend I'd meet him here since he has a layover at the same time for his flight back to Vancouver."

"That's cool," Gabe said, expecting Jonne to brush him off and for them to never cross paths again.

Instead, Jonne insisted, "I hope it's okay if he joins us. He can be a bit, erm, enthusiastic."

"It's fine; I'd love to meet your friend," Gabe said, and crossed his fingers in hopes that this friend was not a fan of the NHL. He was quite enjoying his anonymity. Gabe watched Jonne as he walked ahead on the gangway; now that they were both standing, he was clearly taller than Gabe, with a head of short blond hair and bright blue eyes to match. His height was mostly legs, thin, but not unhealthily thin. 

He wondered how he looked to Jonne; probably hunched over with an uncomfortable gait because of the large bruise on his leg from the last game of the playoffs when they'd been eliminated by Chicago and he'd gone down blocking a particularly hard slap shot. Gabe knew he was attractive – the girls, and sometimes guys in Colorado had no qualms reminding him of such, stroking his ego until it was far more inflated than when he'd initially left Sweden. 

He wondered if it mattered to Jonne that he was attractive. He wondered if Jonne just wanted that coffee, since he looked dead on his feet.

"Hey, Gabe, come here," Jonne tugged on Gabe's arm, startling him from his thoughts. He readjusted his carry-on bag and followed Jonne to the café where he was greeted with a rib-crushing hug by a medium-sized guy with a mop of curly hair.

"Gabe, this is my friend Jan. Jan, this is Gabe. He fell asleep on me on the plane." Gabe felt his cheeks heat up again as he buried his fists in his pockets.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that, again."

"That's fine, or it will be, if you actually buy me a drink. I could go for a white mocha right about now."

"Right," Gabe said, hastily walking up to the counter in the café and placing the order, adding on a medium black coffee for himself. "Did you want something Jan?" He offered before he paid, and the curly hair shivered when it Jan shook his head.

"Thanks," Jonne said, taking the paper cup in his hands. "Want to sit?" He asked Gabe, who nodded. "When's your next flight?" 

"Mine's in like, ten hours," Gabe made a disgruntled face. "I hate short changes but long layovers are equally shit."

"Man, I'm glad you agree. I’m part way into my twelve hour layover," Jan groaned. "I think I've exhausted every store here and their employees."

"That might explain why you're not bouncing all over the place," Jonne rolled his eyes as he sipped at his drink. "How was your video shoot, by the way?" Gabe watched the two friends as they scrutinized each other; Jan was picking at his nails as he listened, fidgety, tapping his foot and chewing his bottom lip.

"My video shoot was good," Jan nodded, waving his hands as he talked to add flourish. Gabe wondered if he was a film star or stage actor of sorts – he certainly had the flair – but he didn't radiate the personality, or the level of attractiveness. In fact, Jan was a fairly average looking male with a bit of a stocky build that wasn't noticeable upon first glance, tan skin and a button nose that didn't quite suit his face. 

"I bet you're excited to be home," Jonne snorted. "I know you don't like leaving for long."

"It's okay," Jan said, but even as he did, Gabe could see the disdain in his eyes.

"So Gabe," Jan started, and Gabe braced himself for an interrogation, with his fists clenched over his thighs. "Where's your flight heading?"

"I'm going home to Stockholm," Gabe said trying to come off as friendly, though even to his own ears, he sounded stiff and proper. He tried to remind himself he was here with strangers, not at an interview. He tried to remind himself that the world wasn't actually out to get him and that sometimes, people just wanted to stop and chat.

"Oh, Swedish!" Jan sounded enthusiastic as he bounced in his seat. "That explains a lot, actually." Across the table, Jonne raised an eyebrow which earned him an eye roll in return. "God, Jonne," Jan verbalised his part of their silent conversation. "All Scandinavians are just unfairly bang-able."

"Did you seriously just use the word 'bang-able' in a sentence?" Jonne dropped his face in his hands. "Why do I know you?"

"I’m right though," Jan threw his arms up in exasperation. "I mean, you can't deny it. Look at this guy – think about Rasmus!"

Jonne gritted his teeth together hard; Gabe watched his jaw tense and the tendon on his neck become slightly more pronounced. "I'd rather not think about Rasmus."

"Oh, that's okay, Rasmus is probably thinking about you," Jan outright giggled gleefully. "He's our friend," Jan added for Gabe's benefit. "He's Norwegian, and totally bang-able. I know I would, anyway."

"Just because you would-"

"Oh, what does that mean?" Jan cut Jonne off quickly.

"You have no standards," Jonne grunted; his eyes were set straight at Jan, wide, pale blue, and unblinking. "I mean, honestly. Did you even see that guy you and Mina picked up last time we all went out?"

"Did you see his ass?" Jan retorted, and Gabe watched as they squabbled back and forth about multiple hookups. Gabe tried to remember a time his friends pestered him about his taste in women, but he could barely recall a time a friend bothered to pester him at all. He frowned.

"You okay there, dude?" Jan asked, turning his attention to Gabe.

"Yeah, I’m good. You guys are good friends, yeah?"

"I've known him a long time," Jan said, casually kicking Jonne under the table.

"Too long," Jonne muttered under his breath before kicking back. "It's been like, fourteen years."

"More like fifteen," Jan corrected, and the two immediately returned to their bickering, words moving fast and flowing over Gabe like a blanket of friendly fire that Gabe hadn't felt since he left the locker room. 

"So I got this plan," Jan said suddenly, with his hazel eyes sparkling under the dim airport café lights. "This summer, I’m totally going to visit you in Finland."

"Why would you want to do that?" Jonne asked, baffled. He stood up, grabbing their empty cups to toss in the bin. "I mean, seriously," he said as Jan and Gabe followed him out of the café, "Finland sucks in the summer. We've got to get to Norway or something."

"Well, obviously I'd be going to Finland to get you, asshole. Then we'd be going to Norway to get Rasmus, and if we're lucky, maybe to Denmark to get Mina." 

"We're not getting Mina," Jonne said flatly. "You guys will just fuck like rabbits the whole time and let Rasmus and I deal with everything. Sorry for getting up so abruptly, my ass was starting to hurt. What's there to do in an airport?"

"You mean other than drink coffee?" Gabe laughed. "Not a hell of a lot." 

"Damn. Well my flight's in like…" Jan paused to look at his watch. "Well, it's in an hour, actually. I didn't realize we were in there for so long. Maybe I should just go check in now."

"Your gate is that way," Jonne pointed off in the opposite direction. "It's a big airport. Maybe you should hurry."

"Oh fuck you," Jan said, but it didn't stop him from hauling Jonne into another monster hug. "Don't get into shit without me this summer, kid."

"Never do," Jonne said, once he could breathe again. 

"It was nice meeting you, Gabe. Maybe I'll see you around sometime," Jan said with a ludicrous wink. "See you, Jonne." 

Jonne stayed silent for the moments Jan's back retreated across the airport, his carry-on bag bouncing against his shoulder. "Right," he gave Gabe a lopsided half smile. "Want to grab some food?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Gabe said, and they turned, wandering forward with the intention of finding something edible. "Are you into Chinese?" Gabe gestured toward the restaurant at the end of the hall.

"I eat everything," Jonne said, and it wasn't until the two of them were seated across from each other in a booth that he spoke again. "Mina, the girl that lives in Denmark that Jan's kind of seeing, she's actually from China. She's told us stories about how what we know as Chinese food isn't actually real Chinese food."

"I know fortune cookies were an American invention," Gabe laughed, perusing the menu. "I don't know much about China; never really wanted to go there myself, but I hear outside of the cities it can be beautiful." 

"There's a, uh, big wall there," Jonne started, then pursed his lips together and smirked. "Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much else."

"Well you don't have to be an ass about it," Gabe snorted as the waitress walked up to them to take their order. Not long after, the food came along hot and fresh, and they loaded up their bowls with rice and sweet and sour pork.

"How long do you have until your flight?" Jonne asked as he finished eating; Gabe put his chopsticks down and glanced at his watch. 

"Just under two hours now, which I guess means I should probably get going." Gabe flagged down the waitress again who whisked away their dishes and came back with their bill in record time. "I got this," Gabe threw down his credit card quickly before Jonne could even think of paying. 

"I hope you don't still feel bad about the plane," Jonne frowned.

"No, I just…" Gabe sighed; he didn't want to tell Jonne he made more money than he knew what to do with these days. "Let me do this for you."

"We can split it," Jonne argued, but when Gabe handed over his credit card, Jonne knew it was a pointless argument. They left the restaurant walking side by side, considerably less hungry.

"Which way is your gate?" Jonne asked. Gabe pointed to the left, and Jonne nodded.

"Mine's that way too, though my flight isn't for another three hours. I'll walk you."

"Thanks," Gabe said, and they began their stroll down the moving sidewalk. "For everything, I mean – for letting me sleep on you and the company."

"No, it's fine, I get it," Jonne gave a half-smile as he readjusted his carry-on on his shoulder. "I've been through a lot of airports; it sucks going alone sometimes."

"Yeah," Gabe agreed as they walked past the signs that pointed them to the direction of their gates. Finally, the signs led them in opposite directions and they stopped at the side letting people pass around them.

"It was nice to meet you," Jonne said, nothing but honesty in his eyes as he pulled Gabe into a brief hug – they both smelled of recycled air and Chinese food. Jonne held on to Gabe's shoulder for a fragment of a second too long. "I'd like to keep in touch."

Gabe watched as Jonne fumbled a notebook and pen from his carry-on and thrust it in his direction. "Sure," Gabe said offhandedly, jotting down his mobile number and email address on the blank page – it looked small and insignificant on the big page, his messy scrawl – his name, not his signature. "You too?"

"Yeah," Jonne said, scrawling his own information on the sheet and ripping the bottom half off to give Gabe. "Text me; maybe we can meet up in Norway or Denmark or something this summer," Jonne bit his lip, a light blush creeping up his cheeks like he'd just realized he'd asked the stranger from the airplane to hang out.

"Yeah," Gabe can't help but smile at him. "That sounds nice. Just, uh, this is going to sound really stupid, but well… uh," Gabe stuttered, and Jonne laughed, nudging him lightly.

"C'mon, just say it. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad, right?"

"Look," Gabe sighed, "I don't want to sound like a total prick but, uh, if you want to know something about me, just ask, alright? I'll probably tell you; I haven't got much to hide. Don't… Don't Google my name looking for answers." 

Gabe held his breath and waited; he expected Jonne to laugh, or show offense, but neither of those things happened. Instead, Jonne nodded at the piece of paper in Gabe's hand and said, "Same goes for you, okay?"

"Okay," Gabe agreed, and they hugged again, hanging on to each other for as long as they could, until a loudspeaker announcement startled Gabe and he pulled away. 

"We'll talk soon," Jonne said, and then with one last glance over his shoulder, he was gone.

As he sat at the gate and waited for the boarding announcement, Gabe couldn't help but pull out his phone, connect to WiFi and open Google in his browser. He knew it was stupid, but at the same time, he knew Jonne had to be doing the exact same thing on the other side of the airport.

Jonne's handwriting was neat, his letters short and loopy. Gabe clicked the search bar and filled in "Jonne Heikkinen" and hit the search button – he then went to the first link, a Wikipedia article. 

Gabe knew what came up when he typed his own name into Google – at the risk of sounding vain, he did keep tabs on his search results and the latest headlines best he could. He knew that typing "Gabriel Landeskog" into Google returned a headshot from his latest season with the Avalanche, his full name, nationality, and profession – "ice hockey forward" as Wikipedia said. 

Jonne's Wikipedia page was much emptier than Gabe's. There was a picture of him, but his face was hidden by his goggles, hat and bandana. The summary informed Gabe that "Jonne Heikkinen is a professional snowboarder from Helsinki, Finland." It went on to list his specialities, accomplishments, and awards (there were quite a few) as well as mentioning his expected upcoming appearances (X-Games, Sochi 2014 Olympics, etc.).

There were a few links at the bottom of the article – one to the official Facebook page, one to the company that sponsors Jonne, and one to Jan's Wikipedia page, which Gabe opened immediately. Wikipedia told him that "Jan Carlowe is a professional snowboarder from Vancouver, BC, who specializes in slopestyle and big air events."

Much like on Jonne's page, there was a long list of accomplishments and awards; there was also a picture partway through the article depicting Jan with a wide smile and unruly hair, arms wrapped around a fellow snowboarder. The caption told Gabe it was Rasmus Nygård from Bergen, Norway – must've been the friend they talked about, Gabe realized. 

Rasmus looked like a stereotypical Norwegian with his bright blue eyes and short, spiked blond hair – he looked built too, dwarfing Jan in the photo they shared. "No wonder," Gabe muttered to himself, thinking of Jan's earlier comments about "bang-able" Scandinavians. 

He hastily tucked his phone back into his bag as the boarding call finally came, but even as he smiled politely at the flight attendant, stowed his bag in the overhead compartment, and took his seat, he couldn't seem to shake Jonne from his mind.

xvx

Jonne texted him first, a week after Gabe arrived back in Sweden. His phone chimed while he sat across from Bea, eating his pasta unenthusiastically at the kitchen table. "Oh, who's this?" Bea asked, grabbing his phone before he could even reach for it.

Gabe shrugged. "You tell me."

"There's no name – and it just says 'hi'," Bea laughed. "You need better friends, Gabe." 

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, dropping his fork to reach forward and wrench the phone from her hands. He stared at the number for a long time. Bea was right, it did just say "hi" and nothing else, though the Finnish area code was unmistakable. 

He tapped out a quick "hi" in response, and placed his phone carefully in his lap, out of Bea's reach. "Alright, you can't just respond to that and not tell me anything," Bea rolled her eyes.

"Just a guy I know," Gabe said, picking up his fork again.

"A guy from Finland?"

"Yeah, from Helsinki," Gabe confirmed as his phone chimed in his lap again. He picked it up. 

"Ooh, a hockey player?" Bea giggled. "What does it say?"

"Jonne's not a hockey player," Gabe responded absentmindedly. "He's just saying he'll be in Stockholm for the week and that I should meet him and his friends."

"Sounds like a good time," Bea nudged him lightly. "You need to get out more. You've been hiding in your room moping all week."

"I haven't been moping!"

"Look, Gabe, I know you can't play hockey in the summer, but like, you haven't even been going to the gym," Bea rolled her eyes. "That's moping. Now I'm going shopping with my friend. You're welcome to come if you want."

"Sure," Gabe agreed, since he was trying to prove Bea wrong about moping. Shopping wouldn't be moping. He knew he'd just end up buying her a new wardrobe or two, but he figured she could use the clothes anyway.

xvx

Gabe met Jonne at the train station; he leaned casually against a pillar, hiding his face under a snapback and sunglasses. He spotted them right away, a group of them, fit men rolling around in a big group like he knew hockey players did too.

They tumbled over to him, Jonne and Jan at the helm, laughing themselves breathless. "Gabe," Jonne said brightly, eyes sparkling under the sun that streamed in from the skylights. 

"Hey, good to see you again," Jan drawled, a cigarette dangling between his lips threating to spill onto the ground. "This is Rasmus," he said, reaching behind him to pull the bigger man in front of Gabe. Ramus looked like he did on Jan's Wikipedia page, with thick, muscled arms and soft blond hair. "Rasmus, this is that hockey player that fell asleep on Jonne."

"That's going to be my legacy, isn't it?" Gabe chuckled.

"They never let things go," Jonne snorted. "You're going to be hearing that for a long time. The guy lurking at the back, that's Mikko, and the blue-haired one on his arm, that's Cody. Mikko's from Oulu and Cody's from Toronto."

Gabe gave each of them a nod of acknowledgment before leading the group from the train station. "Where are you guys staying?" He asked, watching as they all shifted their duffle bags and backpacks around. 

"We got this cabin, on this lake. It's like, an hour out of town I think," Cody said, pulling out his phone and squinting at the screen in the bright sunlight. "At least, that's what Google Maps told me."

"You suck at planning," Mikko snatched the phone from him, scrolling through for a minute. "Okay, we take the green line to the end, then we take bus 142B to the end, and from there it's a twenty minute hike-"

"I could just get my car," Gabe interrupted him, a smile playing at his lips. 

"Yeah!" Jan crowed enthusiastically. "I mean, if you don't have plans, there's always room for one more at the cabin, right guys?"

"I never have plans in the offseason," Gabe snorted, leading the way down the crowded Stockholm sidewalk until he reached his car. "Now, uh, it's gonna be a bit of a squeeze." 

Gabe couldn't help but laugh at the way none of the guys hesitated, throwing their bags into the trunk and folding over each other to cram into the back seat, leaving Jonne to sit in the passenger's side. "He's the tallest," Rasmus reasoned, though he was nearly the same height, and clearly took up more space than Jonne.

With the four guys crammed into his backseat and Jonne's feet on his dashboard, Gabe began the familiar drive out of town. He and Bea had made the trip many times in their summers, the only time Gabe was ever in Sweden for longer than a week, and they'd camped on the grounds near the very lake the guys had rented their cabin. 

"Thanks," Jonne said to Gabe quietly, watching as his friends spilled out of the backseat at a rest stop to piss in the bushes and grab snacks from the convenience store. "I mean, you really didn't have to do this, but I'm glad you're here." He pulled Gabe into a gentle sideways hug, and Gabe's senses were immediately assaulted with the scent of citrus like when he first awoke on the plane. It washed over him with an embarrassing wave of familiarity and comfort.

"I didn't have anything to do anyway. All of my friends are with their families, but I think my sister is sick of seeing my face," he said quickly, trying to hide the blush that coloured his cheeks.

"I don't know how anyone could be sick of seeing that face," Rasmus interrupted them, reaching up to pinch Gabe's pink cheeks. "You're a babe." 

"Yeah, but my sister probably doesn't think so," Gabe snorted, pulling back.

Rasmus raised an eyebrow but didn't add anything else to the conversation, instead, cracking his Gatorade bottle and taking a large gulp from it. Not long after Gabe watched Rasmus chug an entire bottle of Gatorade, they were back on the road, signing along to Swedish House Mafia on the radio and laughing their way to the cabin.

"Three bedrooms," Jan announced, because he had all the details on his phone. "There's a cot in the closet over there," he pointed. "So, Jonne and Rasmus get one room, Cody and Mikko get the other, and we can fight over the rest." 

"Why do they get rooms?" Gabe asked, glancing between Jan and the cot Cody was pulling from the closet. 

"Because no one wants to hear us fuck," Mikko winked, and Gabe felt his cheeks flush again. 

"Right."

"I'll take the cot," Jonne blurted suddenly, and his friends turned to stare at him. 

"But… You and Rasmus always share a room," Jan said, confusion evident. 

"Well, maybe we don't want to share a room this time," Rasmus said, scuffing his toe into the floor, refusing to meet Jonne's eyes. "He can have the room. I'll take the cot. You have the other room, and Gabe can share with Jonne," Rasmus decided before the others could get a word in.

Gabe watched the exchange with confusion, but accepted it without question. "I, uh, I still need to go home and grab my swimsuit and stuff," he said, backing away. "Maybe, uh, you guys can set up the campfire and I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Sounds good," Rasmus said, still talking to the ground as Gabe retreated.

xvx

When he returned to the cabin in the evening, it was as if the earlier conversation had never happened. Rasmus and Jonne were folded together like origami in front of the campfire, watching the flames dance. It wasn't dark – the midnight sun threatened to burn bright until the wee hours of morning, and Gabe settled into the last empty space on a log next to Jan.

"So, uh," he gestured to his bag that he'd left on the doorstep. "Am I sleeping in the room with Jonne, or do I get the cot?"

"It doesn't matter," Jan shrugged. "We'll figure it out, yeah?"

"Yeah," Gabe agreed, and accepted the beer that Jan pressed into his hand without an argument. 

They did figure it out; it came naturally, Gabe stumbling into the small bedroom following Jonne and the trail of citrus and campfire smoke he left behind, and falling onto the bed next to him, face-first into the pillow.

"Shove over," Jonne grunted, and then they were asleep.

Gabe shouldn't have been surprised to wake up with Rasmus in the bed the morning after, and Jonne nowhere to be found, but he was. He jerked, startled, nearly tumbling from the edge of the bed and flailing his arm out to anchor on the nearest object, groping uselessly at the blanket. 

It was Rasmus who secured a grip on his upper arm and hauled him back onto the bed, looking distinctly hungover and unimpressed. "Smooth," he grunted.

"Sorry," Gabe muttered, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head, hearing his back and shoulders crack. 

"Jesus," Rasmus laughed, eyes raking over Gabe's body appreciatively. Squirming under the gaze, Gabe quickly scurried into the bathroom across the hall. 

"I gotta know," Jan cajoled him as he sat at the table, "How is Rasmus in bed? Jonne never tells me a thing."

"What?" Gabe sputtered, nearly spitting out the water he was sipping. "The fuck, Jan?"

"You mean, you didn't…"

"No," Gabe raised an eyebrow. "I didn't." 

"Oh, sorry," Jan said, turning back to the counter and his sandwich. "I just assumed, since he wandered into your room at like, five am."

"I was asleep. I woke up to his face like, an inch from mine," Gabe said, cautiously sipping his water again.

"Was his hand on your dick?" Jan asked, and Gabe choked, coughing until Jonne walked up behind him, slapping him on the back. 

"Dude, what the fuck, lay off him," Jonne sighed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

"Where the fuck were you?" Jan asked, ignoring Gabe's indignant expression.

"I went for a run."

"A run? We're on a fucking vacation."

"Yeah, and I wanted to go for a run on the lake," Jonne rolled his eyes. "I actually enjoy it, you know."

"You're fucked up," Jan insisted.

"Coming from the guy who just asked if I fucked his friend and seemed to want the details, I don't know if I should take that seriously," Gabe said, putting the now empty glass into the sink and poking his head into the fridge. "Do we have breakfast?" 

"We could make something," Jonne said, leaning against him and staring morosely into the empty fridge over his shoulder. "Or not, since we don't have anything to make."

"Let's go out," Rasmus interrupted them, already fully dressed for the day. 

So they went out.

"Out" seemed to be a small breakfast place with a lot of vegan and gluten free options not too far from the campsite. They'd all piled into Gabe's care again, leaving Cody and Mikko who were still asleep to fend for themselves. Now, they sat at a table with more scars than Gabe, poking through the Swedish menus and asking Gabe and Jonne to translate for them.

"I mean, I get most of this," Rasmus laughed, but what does this phrase mean?" Jonne explained softly, so close his lips were grazing the tip of Rasmus' ear, leaving Gabe to translate the menu for Jan. 

"I didn't know Jonne spoke Swedish," Gabe said, watching as Jonne easily navigated the menu to the Norwegian. 

"His mom's from the Swedish speaking part of Finland," Jan said, making up his mind on his menu item. "Now can you tell me again how to say this?" 

"Yeah, you say it like this," Gabe smiled, repeating the order to Jan in the most neutral Swedish accent he could muster.

xvx

It happened the second night at the cabin too. Gabe fell asleep the scent of campfire, lake water and citrus, only to wake up to the warm smell of vanilla and Rasmus breathing calmly an inch or two from his face, Jonne flat on his back on his other side. He sighed, scrubbed the sleep from his eyes, and curled up on his side, facing away from Rasmus. Though it was barely dawn, he couldn't find sleep again, until Rasmus made a muffled noise of frustration, and threw an arm around Gabe's waist, anchoring him in place.

xvx

On the third night, Rasmus didn't even bother trying to hide it anymore. He slipped into the bed between Gabe and Jonne, inconspicuous as a 6'4", 210lbs human could get, and snuggled up to both of them, one arm around Gabe, his legs hooked around Jonne.

Gabe felt his heartbeat stutter, but he didn't dare breathe a word.

xvx

The fourth night was the best, or the worst, depending on who was asked; the fourth night, Jonne pressed Gabe into the middle of the bed, effectively sandwiching him between the two guys. Gabe kept waking up the whole night, breath catching in his throat, listening to their matched huffs of breath on either side of him.

"What are we doing?" He asked that morning, eyes half-lidded and limbs heavy, still curled up between them. "I mean, what are you doing?"

"What we've always done, but you just fit so well between us," Rasmus hummed, and that was the end of that conversation. Gabe didn't try again.

xvx

They spent the last day at the cabin in the lake. "So, what's going on with you, Jonne and Rasmus?" Jan asked from where they were laying on the docks, watching the still water of the lake move fluidly around their friends. "I mean, I've never seen them like this with someone else before."

"That's what I meant to ask you, actually," Gabe said, frowning. "I mean, I don't know what they're trying to accomplish, slipping into bed with me every night, especially if they won't talk about it in the morning." 

"They're doing the same thing they've always done," Jan let out a heavy sigh that sounded unfamiliar and out of place in the thick summer air. "I mean, they're doing what they've always done, but I don't think they get that you're not like them."

"Can you just, can you explain it to me?" Gabe asked helplessly. "What is it that they've always done?"

"I don't know," Jan said slowly, like he was picking his words carefully. "I don't think they know, but I think you could help them figure out, you know?"

"No," Gabe sighed. "Jan, I don't know."

"Yeah," Jan sighed, closing his eyes to the harsh sun. "I don't know either."

That last night, there was no hesitance. Gabe just glued himself soundlessly to Rasmus' side, and let Jonne slide into the bed beside them – let Jonne's breathing and the weight of Rasmus' arm lull him into a deep slumber.

xvx

Then as soon as it started, it was over. Gabe was alone in his room, trying to find shapes in the opaque wall, and counting stars on the inside of his eyelids. Four equally confusing text conversations with Jan hadn't helped Gabe wrap his head around anything, except how lonely he was if he couldn't sleep with the weight of Rasmus on the bed beside him.

Jonne called the day they got to Linkoping. He said, "I wish you were here," and he said, "Rasmus misses you too," which was far more straightforward than Gabe had ever been.

"Did you enjoy hiding for a week?" Bea asked him over breakfast one morning as Gabe stared unseeingly at his toast. "I mean, you're here moping for a week, then you disappear off with these guys for a week, and now you're back, and you're still miserable."

"I'm not miserable," Gabe defended himself quickly; he was just confused, but it wasn't the kind of confusion that was less embarrassing to share with your twin sister. 

"Your friend, the one from Finland," Bea started suddenly, startling Gabe from his reverie. "What was his name again? Jonne?"

"Yeah, Jonne," Gabe confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

"What's his last name, Gabe?"

"Uh, Heikkinen, I think," Gabe frowned at his toast, tossing it thoughtlessly to his plate. "Why?"

"Well my friend sent me this video on YouTube the other day; you know how she's into skiing and shit, well, she was looking into some snowboarders, and I think this is your friend." Bea pulled out her phone, sliding it across the table to Gabe.

He hit play on the video, already queued up on YouTube waiting for him. It started like any other interview video; Jonne was standing at the mouth of a superpipe holding his board, his face covered by his goggles and bandana like in all of his photos. 

"How does it feel?" The interviewer asked, "Knowing you are the first person in the world to land a trick of that calibre?" 

Jonne laughed, the sound hollow, ringing out through the small speakers of Bea's iphone. It echoed around the kitchen – it sounded cold, colder than Jonne had ever sounded to Gabe in real life.

His voice was thick and slow, like molasses running down the bunny hill. "I do this because I can, babe. I can't remember how it's supposed to feel." The video ended two seconds later, the last frame freezing with a visual of Jan and Rasmus physically dragging Jonne from the reporter, who was standing still, mouth agape. 

Gabe stared at the phone on the table for a long time, eyes blank until Bea reached across and snatched it back. "Look, Gabe, I know he's your friend, but how well do you know this kid? He looks pretty fucked up."

Gabe wanted to say that he was pretty fucked up, but instead, he shook his head. "It's just an interview," he insisted. "It could've been a bad day." 

"But he is kind of weird," Bea argued.

"Yeah," Gabe had to agree. "He's pretty weird." Almost as if on cue, his own phone buzzed from where it rested next to his plate. Bea reached over and grabbed that phone too, raising an eyebrow to show Gabe the text from Jonne.

"Rasmus thinks you should meet us in Denmark," she read aloud. 

"Oh," Gabe mumbled.

"Gabe-" She started, but he'd already taken the phone back, typing out a quick three letter response: Yes. “Gabe, who’s Rasmus?”

Gabe shrugged, and took another bite of his breakfast. “He’s just a friend,” he settled, deciding that trying to find words to explain Rasmus would take more energy than necessary at this time of day.

xvx

Gabe bought a train ticket to Copenhagen the minute he escaped from Bea and her insistence that he had to eat more than half a slice of toast for breakfast. "You know," his mother scolded him, "You've been home but we've barely seen you, and now you're leaving again. Even if you have to bring those friends of yours here, I want to see you before you're due back in America."

Gabe agreed, and with that, he was off to the familiar Danish city. He met the guys in a park – Cody and Mikko had left them to continue further north, and in their place they'd met up with Mina, the short, Chinese pixie that was attached at Jan's hip.

"You must be Gabe," she said perkily, jerking up to shake his hand and pull him into a casual half-hug. 

"How did you guess?" Gabe drawled, smiling to bump his fist with Jan, and hug Rasmus and Jonne at the same time. 

"You're hot," Mina said flatly. "Must be Swedish."

"I should take offense to that," Jan said, but showed no sign of such, his lips quirked upward as he watched his girlfriend giggle and casually squeeze Gabe's upper arm. 

If there was a way for someone to encompass every aspect of a person's life, that person, to Gabe, was Jonne. It was as if he was there every time he turned – even when he turned away, there were traces of him, sliding into Gabe's subconscious like a sickness that could not be fought.

And where Jonne was, Rasmus was never far behind. That night, they all stayed in one hotel room, Mina and Jan curled together on one of the beds, Gabe, Jonne, and Rasmus easily pressed together on the other. Gabe breathed easy, cocooned in the familiarity from the cabin by the lake the week before, his mind comforted by the warmth on either side of him as he awoke the next morning.

They spent their days at the river, soaking in the sun. They'd bought beers from the supermarket and found a quiet patch of grass where they stretched out. "I need to work on my tan," Jan laughed, squeezing himself into a Speedo and sprawling out on the grass until the bugs made his skin a home.

Jonne looked good, miles upon miles of toned muscle stretched out on display; between him and Rasmus, heads turned and girls stared, giggles piercing their calm more than once, especially once Gabe removed his t-shirt reluctantly after a bit of wheedling from Mina.

"Hey," Rasmus jabbed Jonne subtly in the side, making him yelp.

"What?" Jonne laughed, shuffling toward Gabe in order to put some distance between himself and Rasmus.

"What do you think?" Rasmus asked, nodding his head toward a group of guys a bit further down the lake – one of them looked oddly familiar, and Gabe felt his stomach clench. A hockey player. No, not just a hockey player. Erik fucking Karlsson.

Luckily, it wasn't Karlsson that Rasmus was nodding at – it was one of the guys behind him that Gabe didn't recognize. "Isn't he just your type?" Rasmus asked, chuckling. "Looks straight, too. Just your type."

"Fuck you," Jonne said, and Rasmus licked his lips.

"I'll give you a blowjob."

"Fuck you," Jonne snapped again, but he stood, stretching his lanky limbs for a moment before strolling across the river bank and chatting quietly with the group for a moment. Gabe groaned quietly to himself when Jonne returned with the guy Rasmus had been nodding at, and a few of his friends, including Karlsson.

"Landy, hey," he was recognized almost immediately. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Gabe said coolly, reaching out to fist bump his peer. "Just enjoying summer, y'know?"

"Yeah," Karlsson agreed easily, and Gabe shuffled back a bit, wary of Erik's close proximity. He bumped up against Jonne's side, and when Jonne dropped his arm to the grass behind Gabe, neither of them moved away, even after Karlsson returned to his friends.

Two hours later, a photo of Gabe and Jonne showed up on Deadspin with the headline "Landeskog catching some sun with his mystery man" splashed across the page. For the first time in years, Gabe wanted to cry.

xvx

"I'm not gay," were the first words from Gabe's lips as he answered the call.

"Sure," Bea snorted, like she could see how he laid in bed between Rasmus and Jonne, like she could see how his heart thumped in his chest as he watched the two kiss next to him until he couldn't watch anymore and turned away to text his sister. "How's Copenhagen?"

"It's nice," Gabe said, and he didn't have any other words for it, really. It was nice; the sun was hot, the river was cool, the girls were pretty, Jonne and Rasmus were Jonne and Rasmus.

"There are pictures of you, some other guys and that Finnish snowboarder on Erik Karlsson's tumblr," Bea said, and Gabe scrambled for his laptop like he wanted to prove her wrong. He wouldn't, though. His sister did a better job keeping tabs on him than anyone else most days. "At least, I'm guessing that's who he is. The internet doesn't know who he is since he never shows his face. He's going to be pissed," Bea chattered.

"Yeah, probably. Hey Jonne, your face is on the internet," Gabe turned around to face his friends, finding them still connected at the lips. "I bet he can't hear me. He's making out with Rasmus."

“Wait, the Rasmus who wanted you to go there?”

“I only know one Rasmus,” Gabe snorted into his phone.

“You mean to tell me you don't know Ristolainen?" Bea laughed.

"Nope," Gabe shrugged, picking idly at his nails, trying not to watch his friends kiss from the corner of his eyes.

"Oh, he's on more websites than just Deadspin now," Bea said suddenly, and Gabe could just imagine her in front of her ipad, scrolling as she talked to him. "They've identified Rasmus, but not your Finn or Canadian."

"They're not mine," Gabe said, and then let out a startled yelp as Rasmus reached an arm out and hauled him closer to their bodies. "I gotta go Bea, bye," he hung up the phone quickly, tossing it aside. "What the hell, dude."

And then Rasmus kissed him.

Gabe felt like his entire world had gone full tilt in the matter of second; a quick touch of dry, chapped lips had him shaking at the knees. When he stumbled backward to the bed of their hotel room, Jonne followed him easily, like water moving fluidly to adapt to its surroundings.

"Sorry," Rasmus said, nudging Jonne toward Gabe with a roll of his eyes. "This one didn't want to do it, so I did."

"I never said I wouldn't, I was just taking my time," Jonne snapped, and then as if to prove his point, he leaned over and kissed Gabe too – and Gabe, he didn't know what to do, so he just kissed him back, until his lips were red and swollen and wet with someone else's spit.

"I'm not gay," Gabe blurted, feeling an eerie sense of déjà vu from his earlier conversation with Bea.

"Me neither," Jonne said, and Rasmus nodded as if he agreed.

"Pretty sure I'm not gay either," Rasmus said, and then he kissed Jonne again, like it didn't matter. 

"I sleep better when you're here," Gabe admitted quietly when they pulled away, his voice toned low, facing the ceiling, unable to turn to his friends.

"Good," Jonne said, and for the next week, they kissed their way through the river, the market, and the streets of Copenhagen until Gabe felt like the three of them had become one entity, and not even Mina or Jan could break them.

xvx

"Have you ever been so horny that you can't function?" Jan asked, and even though the other guys nodded, Gabe doesn't, because he can't imagine ever letting a desire for sex rule his life like that. It'd always been hockey first for him, and when he didn't have hockey in the summer, it was making sure that he got hockey back.

"No," Gabe said, and they all stared at him for a long time.

"Okay," Jan said, rolling his eyes. "I want to go out tonight." They were in Norway by then, packing up tents for a weekend camping out in the mountains near Rasmus' hometown, so Rasmus lead the way for their night out.

Gabe looked at Jonne and Rasmus that night, really looked at them. He sat on a wobbly stool at the bar, tossed back a few shots, and watched their fleeting touches, silent conversations, and the way their bodies moved in synch with each other, but not the music. 

"They're in love," Mina crowed in his ear, and he nodded. "You are too," she said, and Gabe shook his head.

"I can't be," he frowned, swilling the contents of his pint glass around. "I mean, I don't want, I mean… I'm not gay."

"Then you're shit outta luck, babe," Mina smiled. "They're in love with you, and they're coming this way." And then she was gone, and Gabe almost dropped his glass, because Jonne was in his lap, and he was definitely not the appropriate size to be sitting in people's laps, never mind while Gabe is perched on a less than sturdy seat.

"Sexuality is fluid," Mina said later that night after they left the bar as they sat on the river banks watching the boats pass them, their toes skimming the water. She took a deep drag of her cigarette and flicked the ashes into the grass. "I mean, I was straight, for a long time," she said, wrinkling her nose, "and then I wasn't."

"But you're with Jan," Gabe said, feeling his heart weight heavy inside, like she was trying to tell him something. 

"Yeah, I am," she said, shrugging. "But tomorrow, we might be with someone else." 

And Gabe didn't try to make sense of that; he'd come to accept the baffling conversations between this group. Instead, he averted his eyes from her, only to see Rasmus and Jonne casually leaning against each other.

"C'mon," Jonne coaxed him closer to his side, and as he slumped against the solid body, it was like in that moment nothing had changed – but everything, everything was different.

"They love you," Mina crowed in his ear. "One day, you'll wake up and realize you love them too." 

And Gabe, he didn't know a thing about love, or what to do with it. He'd never been in love; never wanted to be in love, in fact. It'd been four weeks since he'd been back in Sweden, four weeks since he fell asleep on a stranger's shoulder on a transatlantic flight, and four weeks since he first met Jonne.

"Is it about the sex?" He asked quickly, before he could regret it. Two sets of eyes turned to face him, one anxious and worried, and the other wide with wonder.

"Not right now, honestly," Jonne said, but Rasmus reached forward and tangled Gabe into an absolutely filthy kiss.

"But it could be."

xvx

They spent a week out in the bush, eating food from cans and swimming in the ocean. Gabe shared a tent with Gabe and Rasmus, falling asleep to the sounds of Jan's grunts and Mina's soft moans every night, fighting the urge to wrap his hand around his cock and jerk off with the reminder that Jonne and Rasmus lay on either side of him.

Then Jonne went to visit another snowboarder he knew in Bergen, leaving Jonne with Rasmus, Jan, and Mina when they returned to Rasmus' hometown. Rasmus' flat was small – two bedrooms, a cramped kitchen and a sitting area with a large couch and TV.

They stored the camping equipment away like the past few days had never happened, like there'd been no campfires, nature hikes, and beers by the water. That night, Gabe curled up on Rasmus' bed, and they kissed until Gabe couldn't tell where he ended and Rasmus began.

"I've never, before, you know," Gabe stuttered in the morning when Rasmus woke him up with a hand stroking up a down his side, his morning wood pressing insistently into Gabe's ass. 

"I got that," Rasmus said, which didn't surprise Gabe at all, though they've never once talked about it. Hell, they'd never talked about this thing they were doing either, but Rasmus always seemed to just get it – he was awfully good at understanding.

So that's what Gabe told himself, over and again, as Rasmus reached down to squeeze his ass, to pull his boxers down and wrap a big hand around Gabe. "No one's ever done this before, hmm?" Rasmus hummed into Gabe's neck as he began to move his hand and Gabe could only swallow and nod.

"Never had a girl?" Rasmus asked, fumbling to pull his own boxers down too, his hand never changing pace.

"No, never," Gabe choked out. "Never wanted one. Hockey."

"Yeah, I get that," Rasmus said, thrusting into the space between Gabe's upper thighs. "Want a safe word, babe?" 

"Yeah," Gabe managed to nod as Rasmus flipped them so that Gabe lay under him, struggling to sort his thoughts to find a word that was appropriate. "Uh, can I, uh-"

"Just say it," Rasmus said softly. "I'm not going to laugh at you."

"I fucking hate the Red Wings," Gabe muttered. "Octopus."

"Octopus," Rasmus repeated, trying to make sense of it.

"Octopus," Gabe confirmed.

"Good," Rasmus said, and then his eyes flashed, darkening in the morning light as he reached up and pinned Gabe's wrists above his head. "Now stop talking."

"Why don't you make me?" Gabe snorted.

And Rasmus did by crawling up Gabe's body, and pressing his cock into Gabe's mouth. 

Gabe surprisingly didn't mind.

He'd never had a cock in his mouth before – hell, he wasn't even sure if he'd ever thought of the idea of having a cock in his mouth, but here he was, and it was, quite frankly, not terrible. He gave a few experimental licks, a few rolls of his tongue, and then he was taking Rasmus down with a hum in the back of his throat that had the other man twitching above him.

"You know," Jonne said when he returned from Bergen to the sight of Gabe and Rasmus tangled in the sheets, "I thought I'd get him first."

"You do," Gabe responded quickly, surprising himself as Rasmus smirked over his shoulder.

"He's all yours."

"Oh," Jonne said, moving forward instinctually, reaching out to touch, but hesitating. "Does, uh, do you have a safe word?" He asked quickly.

"It's 'octopus'," Rasmus answered for Gabe, and Jonne swallowed hard, nodding. Then he kicked off his shoes, shed his clothes in a matter of seconds, and crawled onto the bed.

"Lube?" He asked Rasmus who dug out a small tube from his suitcase. "You can do it," Jonne grinned. "I'll just watch." And Rasmus opened Gabe up with expert fingers – at first it was just intrusive and uncomfortable, but soon it turned into pleasure, and Gabe was shaking, begging for it, before he knew the words were coming from his own mouth.

Jonne fucked Gabe into the mattress with surprising strength; the headboard slammed hard into the wall as Rasmus pushed himself back between Gabe's lips. "I love your mouth," he murmured at Gabe, reaching out to kiss Jonne over him.

Afterward, he lay sandwiched between them as they stretched out tall on either side of him, sheltering him like the two towering trees in his favourite park used to do as a child.

xvx

Gabe left Norway and returned to Stockholm with two weeks to spare before his scheduled return to Denver, Colorado. With his arrival in Stockholm came Jonne and Rasmus, as Jan backtracked to Copenhagen with Mina, and Cody and Mikko had found their own way to Norway.

"We love it here," Mikko texted Gabe. "We're glad you recommended this campsite." Gabe just smiled blankly at his phone; he didn't want to tell them that the campsite was really Rasmus' recommendation as it made him sound boring, but he had nothing to do with the booking in Norway, much like he hadn't had much to do with the planning of anything else he'd done the past few weeks.

"You're staying with us, of course," Gabe had told Rasmus and Jonne long before they even returned to Sweden, but as they walked up to the house, Gabe remembered that he had neglected to mention a single, possibly very important detail.

"Gabriel fucking Landeskog, why are there snowboarders in our kitchen?"

"Hello, good to see you again too, Bea," Gabe sighed. 

"Fuck you," Bea snapped, and before they could blink, she'd gone stomping off into her bedroom.

"My twin sister, Beatrice," Gabe sighed.

"Right," Rasmus raised an eyebrow. "She, uh, reminds me of you."

Jonne cracked up, doubling over, while Gabe just put his face in his hands and tried not to scream.

Bea stumbled back into the kitchen eventually, joining Gabe and his friends after fiddling with the coffee maker for a while. "What are you guys up to? I'm Beatrice, by the way. It's nice to finally meet you."

Jonne and Rasmus introduced themselves courteously, half smiles plastered to their faces. "We're just relaxing, I think, before we all have to go back to work," Rasmus said, and his smooth voice was all it took to win Bea over – Gabe could see the defeat in her face.

"That's good. Would you guys like some dinner? I was planning to cook anyways."

"I'd love some dinner," Rasmus crooned, and just like that, Bea was off her seat, rummaging around the fridge. 

"You alright?" Jonne asked, touching Gabe's arm softly as Rasmus watched Bea move around the kitchen with ease and fluidity that Gabe could never accomplish.

"Yeah," he unconsciously leaned into the touch. "I'm great, I just… Well, it's not that I don't like coming home in the summer, I do, really, it's just…" Gabe trailed off, words sticking to his throat.

"It's just that you don't know what to do with yourself when you're here," Jonne said, and Gabe nodded reverently in agreement. 

"Back in Colorado I've got a routine; I have a job and a house and friends I can call to come over for pizza and beer. I haven't got much of that here. I don't even have a favourite gym, or rink to train at."

"I know what you mean. It's weird thinking that there aren't any spectacular mountains to ride in Helsinki," Jonne quirked his lips upward, and Gabe couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from his stomach.

"The break is nice though," Gabe conceded, and Jonne nodded, eyes turning to Rasmus who was still watching Bea cook. 

"I think some may enjoy it more than others. You're looking a bit chubby there, Raz."

"Fuck you," Rasmus chirped easily, without even turning his head as he reached out to casually smack Jonne across the thigh. 

They slept in Gabe's childhood bedroom that night, tangled together in a mess of limbs until it wasn't clear where one of them ended and the other began. And maybe, just maybe, it was intentional that he forgot to lock his door that night, or mention to his mother that his friends had come around.

"Gabriel, would you mind taking-" The door creaked open and his mother stopped, mid-sentence, staring at the pile of boys on her son's bed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company." 

Gabe let out a groan, peeling himself from Jonne's back and stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah mom, you said to bring my friends around so you could meet them, but, uh, maybe we should wait until they have pants on."

His mother closed the door gently behind her as she left.

"I thought she wasn't going to be home until Monday," Gabe admitted as Rasmus lifted the blanket to reveal his cheeky grin. 

"You're the worst," Jonne said, but there was no bite behind it as he rolled over, right onto Gabe's chest. 

"That doesn't mean much coming from you, babe," Rasmus sighed somewhere near Gabe's shoulder. "I guess that means we can't sleep until noon today."

"You can stay, but I should, uh, probably get moving," Gabe unsuccessfully tried to dislodge Jonne from his chest (to be fair, he wasn't trying his hardest). 

"We'll be there in a minute," Rasmus decided, reaching out to gently lift Jonne from Gabe's body. He reached up and stretched, cracking his back and listening to his body groan before he dug up a pair of sweats from the pile on the floor and a t-shirt from his dresser.

"I'll see you in the kitchen; don't get ambushed by Bea on the way down – I don't know where she is," Gabe warned them as he disappeared out the door.

On the other side, as he closed it behind him, he took a moment to suck in a deep breath and collect his thoughts before he wandered downstairs. "I'm here, mom," he called out.

"We have a guest room," she said to him pointedly as she poured some batter into the pan. "I'm making you guys pancakes."

"Oh, uh, you didn't have to. And, uhm, I know, and they know," Gabe said, looking at his feet. He knew she was looking at him, hand on her hip, spatula in hand, eyes laser sharp – Bea had her eyes, but Gabe had his dad's, all bright and clear, like windows into his mind.

"Are those the boys from the pictures on the internet?" His mom asked with a heavy sigh, doling the pancakes onto a large plate, prompting Gabe to rustle around the cupboard for their collection of jam, syrup, and powdered sugar.

"They are," Bea confirmed, sashaying into the room as she danced to the electronic music playing softly in the background, swirling to the fridge to take out the butter. "Also, you're lucky mom loves us because it's nearly noon and pancakes are not lunch food."

"Thanks mom," Gabe said sheepishly, and Bea laughed, full and loud, filing the kitchen with the sound of joy as Rasmus and Jonne entered, now fully clothed and looking more presentable. 

Introductions and pancakes went around quickly; they made casual conversation about the music, weather, food, and their mutual friends, neglecting to mention the summer drawing to a close, and Gabe's imminent return to Colorado. 

"Oh, let Gabriel take you out tonight," his mother said, her eyes sparkling. "Let him show you Stockholm."

"We've seen Stockholm, ma'am," Rasmus said politely. "I think we all just want to relax before our seasons begin."

"What do you guys do for a living?" Gabe's mom asked them, glancing over at Gabe. "Are you hockey players in Finland?"

"No, no, I'm from Norway, actually," Rasmus corrected her quickly. "We're not hockey players either – we're professional snowboarders." Jonne gave a weak smile, hanging his head and blushing lightly. 

"Oh, snowboarders," his mom sounded interested as Bea leaned her chin on her hands and watched the exchange with rapt attention. "How did you meet?"

"Well," Jonne interrupted, a wide grin spread across his face. "Gabe fell asleep on me during a flight- "

"I'm out," Gabe said quickly, sweeping the empty plates away with him, leaving the room before he's faced with further humiliation.

The guys and Bea found him in the den after, flipping through the channels idly while unseeingly staring at the TV. "Maybe we should go out or something, wander around town," Bea suggested, and Gabe nodded soundlessly, turning off the TV and following them out the door.

They spend the afternoon wandering around the old town, Jonne shamelessly dragging them through the large Science Fiction bookshop in the heart of town. It took them nearly an hour to leave, though not empty handed, Jonne loaded down with a handful of books that were sure to weigh down his suitcase.

"I don't think I'll ever get married," Rasmus said casually as they wandered past a bridal shop a few stores past the bookshop.

"Why do you say that?" Jonne asked quickly, hand tightening around his bag of books. "Is it because it isn't legal-"

"No, no," Rasmus smiled. "I just don't think I need a piece of paper to tell me who I'm allowed to love or whatever," he said, squeezing Jonne's elbow fleetingly before dropping his hand to his side again. "Weddings are fun though. I'd like to be a big part of yours."

"What makes you think I want to get married if you don't?" Jonne asked, suddenly confused. 

"Well," Rasmus said, and when he caught Gabe's eye, Gabe nearly tripped over his own feet on the sidewalk. "I don't think you're going to get married, like, tomorrow, but maybe a few years down the road, you and uh, whoever you're with, seem like the type to settle." He was talking to Jonne, but he was looking right at Gabe.

It took him a full minute to remember how to breathe, but by then, his friends had already sauntered ahead, Bea leading the group completely oblivious to the exchange behind her – and for once in his life, Gabe was thankful for her naturally fast walking pace.

Rasmus let Gabe fuck him that night; Jonne fumbled with the strawberry lube and opened Rasmus up with a practiced hand, sliding a ribbed condom onto Gabe with an encouragingly filthy kiss, and sucked on Rasmus' cock as Gabe pushed into his ass, again and again until they both collapsed on Gabe's bed – Gabe's childhood bed – and Jonne came all over them with a muted, exhausted groan.

Gabe's fingers are red from when he'd stuck them into Rasmus' mouth and the sharp teeth had gotten the best of him. Rasmus sucked on them until Gabe couldn't feel the tenderness under the red teeth marks anymore, and they all fell asleep in a pile, like roots, starting to take permanent shape around each other.

And then they woke up one morning, followed up with a round of mind-blowing orgasms, and summer… Summer was gone.

xvx

Gabe arrived back in Denver on a rather bleak looking Thursday; he'd left Rasmus and Jonne to catch their respective flights at the airport in Stockholm, and hopped onto his own plane to the US, a direct this time.

Matt picked him up from the airport in a vehicle that Gabe didn't recognize. "New car, Dutchy?"

"Yeah," Matt said, and Gabe let him ramble about the car for a while as they drove up to Gabe's house, only a few minutes from the rink. 

"So what did you get up to this summer?" Gabe asked, tossing his suitcase aside carelessly as he entered his house. It'd been well maintained over the summer, and the fridge had been stocked for him – he tossed Matt a beer knowing they weren't leaving anytime in the near future.

"Not a lot; saw my family and stuff," Matt shrugged. "What about you? How was Sweden?"

"It was nice," Gabe said, and offered no more, casually changing the topic. If Matt noticed the avoidance, he never asked.

He fell back into his routine easily; it was simple to push his emotions aside as he began carb-loading again, going to the gym in preparation for the impending season, and meeting with the professionals more than once to fulfil his captain's duties.

His days were spent sore and disgruntled, his nights short and dreams full of stilted memories – memories of thick bodies, shared warmth, and the sticky heat of summer romance that assaulted his senses and left him hard and wanting every morning for two boys he'd left behind, locked away in a corner of his own life he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge.

But he had to acknowledge it, and he did. Because between the long hours at the gym and the grueling practices, there were late nights dedicated to three-way Skype dates; Jan texted like a child – incessantly and full of terrible chat speak, and even Mina called every few days.

Every time Gabe heard her voice, he could remember that night. "They love you," She'd crowed in his ear in the dim lights of the dingy bar. And into his cold cell phone, he whispered to Mina, "I think I love them." She laughed, full and beautiful, until it was all that Gabe could hear.

Gabe felt his heart flutter; he understood why Jan couldn't let her go.

"You're telling the wrong person, darling."

But he didn't tell them, because one minute he was sweating at the gym, and the next he was too busy with the preseason to remember to eat, nonetheless Skype his… Whatever they were. 

It was a rainy afternoon not too long before the official season began, Matt, Nate, Ryan, and a few of Gabe's other teammates piled into his living room watching brainless comedies on the TV when his phone went off. 

He glanced absentmindedly at the caller ID, spotting Rasmus' name flashing across the screen. "I'll be out that way for a competition soon," Rasmus' voice was deep and husky, and Gabe could imagine him sprawled out loose and relaxed on the bed. "I'd like to see you."

"I'd like to see you too," Gabe said quietly after slipping from the room. "Just let me know when, and I'll tell you if it works with my schedule."

"Yeah, okay," Rasmus agreed, and his breath hitched.

"Are you jerking off?" Gabe asked, incredulous.

"Maybe," Rasmus laughed breathlessly, and Gabe had to force himself to compress his urge to run upstairs and join in. 

"Raz, I've got company."

"Oh," Rasmus made a small noise, and Gabe can imagine him coming hard and fast, all over his stomach. "Gabe," he murmured, with his voice soft and lilting. "That's the first time you've ever called me that."

"I guess so," Gabe hummed, trying to focus on his shaking fingers, drawing attention from his dick standing interested in his jeans. "I love you," he blurted suddenly, interrupting their moment with his words. "I mean, I know you haven't said it, but I just-"

"I love you too," Rasmus returned, and Gabe, Gabe just let his whole body slump into a deep sigh. 

"Why are my friends in my living room?"

"Well you're not, are you? I mean, could you imagine if Jonne and I were there right now?" And that was how Gabe ended up with his fist around his cock, phone to his ear, when Nate came knocking at his door.

Gabe groaned. "I'll be back downstairs in a minute," he panted, and once he heard Nate's footsteps fade away, he grabbed for his phone. "Raz…"

"Right here babe," Rasmus assured him, and then Gabe came hard, all over his sheets. Flushed and embarrassed, he hung up, cleaned himself up, and tried to act normal the rest of the night, firing off excuses about calling his sister when the guys asked him where he'd disappeared to.

"I'll be there too," Jonne said when he answered the phone later that night. Gabe was curled up in bed, tipsy from shitty beer and feeling too small in his empty bed. He'd called Jonne, who was at a competition in Vancouver, and a few hours behind. 

"Yeah?"

"In Colorado, for the competition, I mean," Jonne clarified. "I wanted to surprise you, but I don't think that's fair, for Rasmus to know and not you. Also, I love you," he added hastily.

"Love you too," Gabe said dopily, and that was that.

It didn't hit him until the morning after, trying to remember why he'd been so happy falling asleep, that it hadn't even been half a year since he'd met the man who changed his life. Half a year, and everything was the same here in Colorado, but Gabe, Gabe felt so different.

His whole body screamed with the unfamiliarity, and he couldn't figure out why.

It's Mina who explained it to him, though she didn't realize it. She talked about what it was like dating Jan; she said, "He's just always there – a constant, you know. You can't replace that feeling. It's strong, like a tree, rooted to your life. I miss him, like, every minute he's not here, and when he is, he's always crowding, looming over me and I just need that all the time."

And Gabe understood.

xvx

They came together like a storm that ripped through Gabe's entire life on a Wednesday afternoon. He got home from the rink, exhausted from practice, and there they were, waiting for him on his doorstep like a pair of drunken puppies that hadn't quite learned to walk on their own.

Gabe let them in, fed and watered them, and laid them out on his bed within the night, and that was where they stayed, breathing each other in until the early hours of morning and Gabe had to leave for practice again.

Then just like they came, they were gone, off to their next competition in God-knows-where USA, leaving Gabe to his empty bed that felt bigger than it ever had before. "Mina was right," he swore at his empty room. 

He missed them every minute they were there. Mina was always right.

He started to channel that energy, that passion into his game more than ever – and maybe it worked, because all of a sudden, the Avalanche started winning more than usual. They kept winning too, and when his phone rang late at night with phone calls of congratulations from snowboarding competitions across the globe after each win, it felt more like a victory than any game they'd ever won the previous seasons.

"You're putting up career-high numbers," Bea told him through the Skype window. "I've never seen you play this good before."

"Yeah, me neither," Gabe said, watching a replay of moments from his own game on the TV.

"I don't know what they did, but they're good for you," Bea said, after a moment of silence. "I don't like them though. I mean, look," she sent him a link, and against his better judgement, he clicked it. 

It was another video of Jonne like the first one she'd shown him on her phone back in Stockholm; this one was grainy though, like it was taken with a cell phone. 

 

He was sitting at the foot of a set of stairs, watching Jan and Rasmus skateboarding. 

It was dark, and Jonne's face was covered with a bandana and a snapback pulled low over his eyes.

"You're an ungrateful prick," someone off screen said, and a figure walked into the frame, tall and wiry like Jonne, accent strong – Gabe thought he sounded French. "Everything you ever wanted just fell into your fucking lap, didn't it? And you don't even want to show the world – no, you don't even want to show us, your competition, what your fucking face looks like." 

The screen went black.

"This popped up on the internet a few days ago," Bea sighed. "Look, they're good for you, but maybe you should talk to them, yeah? Because I feel like there's a bit of hostility going on there."

"There's always hostility," Gabe sighed, changing the topic immediately after.

He caught Rasmus alone for a night before another competition in Denver later that month. He didn't bring it up – Rasmus took one look at him, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and said "You've seen the video I guess."

"Beatrice sent it to me," Gabe said. "I wasn't, like, looking you guys up or anything."

Rasmus made an affirming humming noise before he followed Gabe into the house – too big, too empty, even with two people inside. It needed more to fill it – Gabe tried to fill it a lot, inviting his friends over when he could, but it never stopped the emptiness from echoing around inside himself.

"It's not my story to tell, Gabe," Rasmus sighed, pulling Gabe into a tight hug. "Really, it's not his either, so I guess it won't hurt to summarize."

"Yeah, I'd appreciate that," Gabe said, snuggling securely into Rasmus' side.

"Jonne's never liked being the centre of attention," Rasmus explained, carding his fingers through Gabe's hair. "He thinks there are better things to do with his time than take advantage of fame; he doesn't really have fun when he snowboards. He does it because he can do it, not like the rest of us.

"He told me once that he wished any of us could be in his position; that anyone else in the world could be in his position, so he didn't have to do things like interviews and podiums. He wanted to be an engineer, you know. He wanted to go to university, and he's just doing this to fund that, since his mom refuses to acknowledge his wishes.

"He wants to be able to stop snowboarding one day, and walk down the street without worrying about someone seeing him and asking him why he stopped."

"He's never talked about his parents," Gabe said quietly.

"He and his mom don't always see eye to eye," Rasmus said. "We're lucky, with our parents the way they are."

"Yeah," Gabe said, thinking about his mom. "We really are."

Later that week, when he Gabe was on Skype with Jonne, he asked, "Why engineering?"

"I wanted to change the world," Jonne said, but the past tense didn't slip past Gabe.

"Wanted to? Well, what do you want now?"

"I just want to stop, but I can't, I have to keep going. I just want to stop hiding, and sit down – slow down, maybe. Go to school, get a real job where I have to wear shoes I can shine, and, like…" Jonne let out a heavy sigh. "Learn."

"One day, you'll have that," Gabe assured him, and Jonne laughed, but Gabe could see the blatant disbelief in his eyes.

In the weeks leading up to the Christmas break, Gabe did not get a chance to connect with Jonne or Rasmus, but Jan, Cody and Mikko stopped by in early December on their way to a competition. 

"It's good to see you guys again," Gabe greeted them warmly, and because they weren't Jonne and Rasmus and didn't demand his attention in bed the whole time they were around, he actually brought them into the city and showed them around.

Since they stuck around longer than Jonne or Rasmus ever had too, he gave them all tickets to an Avalanche game and when Jan went to post a photo on Instagram, Gabe had to beg him not to be tagged. "I don't get it," Cody said, looking at Jan's phone. "It's a great picture."

"Yeah. It's free advertising too, dude," Mikko rolled his eyes, leaning on his boyfriend's shoulder. 

"I won't, if that's what you really want, but you're sounding a lot like Jonne," Jan snorted.

"I just don't want people, like my sister, to ask questions, okay?"

"Yeah, you sound exactly like Jonne," Jan sighed, faking a deeply wounded look.

"No, I don't," Gabe defended himself. "Jonne can't be fucked to get an Instagram."

"Yeah, you're right," Jan said, laughing. "Guess this will have to do," he added, posting the picture.

It didn't matter that Gabe wasn't tagged in it – he was on Deadspin again in a matter of hours. The caption read: Colorado Avalanche Captain Gabriel Landeskog Spotted with Canadian Snowboarders after Win Against Vancouver Canucks.

"Oh, Canadian snowboarders. What am I, invisible?" Mikko grumbled.

"You just don't have the reputation yet," Cody assured him with a warm hand. "Look, after the X-Games this year, they won't know what hit them."

"Coming from you, who's guaranteed to qualify for the fucking Olympics-"

"No one's guaranteed to qualify for the Olympics," Gabe sighed. He thought about training camp – he thought he'd be a sure thing for the team, but he knew anything could happen between then and February.

"Cody, Jan, Rasmus, and Jonne are all going to the Olympics," Mikko said firmly, like he wouldn't believe otherwise. "And so are you."

"Okay," Gabe said, and Mikko rolled his eyes with fond exasperation. 

"Whatever. Let's go get drunk and celebrate this win," Cody said, and Gabe led the way to the best bars in the city, the ones where boys danced on each other and he'd never see his teammates. 

He hid in the corner, hat pulled low over his face, and when his face wasn't on Deadspin again the next morning he couldn't help his pleasant surprise.

"Looks like you, Cody, Mikko and Jan are having fun without me," the missed text from Jonne on his phone said the next morning. 

"It's not the same without you," he texted back, and the reply was almost instant.

"It's not the same with you or Rasmus either."

xvx

Usually over the three day Christmas break they're granted, someone on the team threw a get-together for the guys who didn't live close enough to go home – which, in all honesty, was most of the team. So Gabe laughed and posed for a thousand photos on Instagram on Christmas night, smiling a thousand watt smile that charmed girls around the world.

But that night, he curled up alone in bed, staring at his phone, waiting, hoping, wishing for it to ring, but it never did. He crawled up from his sheets at four in the morning on Boxing Day, fingers shaking, pressing buttons soundlessly on his laptop and staring unseeingly at the screen.

He finally fell asleep on the sofa with a mug of tea on the coffee table at six, body exhausted, but nowhere near as tired as his mind. 

"I know we said we'd call," the hand in his hair wakes him up, but it isn't connected to the soft voice. "We wanted to surprise you, but our flight got delayed." 

"Also, you should hide your spare key better," Jonne added from near Gabe's head, his hand never stilling. "You look exhausted, babe."

"I am," Gabe sighed, stretching and reaching for Rasmus who was still hovering somewhere near the coffee table. "But ti's fine, since you're here now."

"We still should have called," Rasmus said.

"It's fine," Gabe repeated, letting them move him to his bedroom. "Anyway, this is nice. It's a nice surprise."

"It was a nice surprise for us too when the schedules worked out," Rasmus admitted, tucking the blanket around Gabe and Jonne. "Now I'm going to make some lunch."

Gabe made a soft humming noise in acknowledgement, and burrowed into Jonne's side.

"Merry Christmas," Jonne whispered, kissing the top of his head.

"You too," Gabe said. 

"We brought a turkey," Rasmus called from the kitchen interrupting their moment. "For dinner tonight."

Jonne and Gabe laughed at each other, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

xvx

On New Year's Eve, Gabe declined several invitations from teammates in order to spend the evening at home. He plugged his laptop onto the TV and logged into the chat system where six video windows lay open, tiled across the screen.

"Hey guys," he said, raising his glass of wine to the TV. Rasmus was in Olympia, Washington, in a tiny motel room with a single bed and a bottle of champagne. Beside him was a large stuffed polar bear, wearing one of Jonne's many bandanas. 

Jonne was in Norway, curled up on Rasmus' bed, wearing Rasmus' clothes, and using Rasmus' computer as he'd been at a competition nearby. 

Mikko was in Vancouver, in a swank hotel room that overlooked the river, because he splurged for a nice weekend to himself after coming in second at an important qualifying run. He was giddy, bouncing up and down on his king sized bed, smiling dumbly at the camera. 

Cody was in Toronto, in the middle of packing his suitcase in preparation for the X-Games. He moved easily through his bedroom, tossing clothes into the suitcase only to remove them, refold them, place them back and remove them again. 

Jan was in Portland, Oregon, already slowly making his way toward Colorado for the X-Games. He was sitting on top of his closed suitcase, clearly having arrived only minutes before the call connected. The hotel was average, with a double bed and a blue shower curtain Gabe could see through the bathroom door.

"Hey to you too," Mina said from her bedroom in Copenhagen; she was sprawled on her bed, relaxed and swaddled in blankets, a few bottles of beer on her nightstand. "Did you win?"

"We did," Gabe confirmed, smiling and rubbing his sore thighs. "We played a good game. Our goalie is in top form this year. Team Russia is going to be scary at the Olympics." 

"Nothing better than a challenge, right?" Rasmus asked, winking in what he assumed was Jonne's direction when he said it (the two were often neck to neck in the competitions they entered together – it was how they'd become such good friends). 

"It's been a good year," Jonne said suddenly. "We won some competitions – we all walked away with a medal or first place this year at some point, Mina and Jan finally got their shit together for real, we had a fantastic summer, and we found Gabe."

"Or Gabe found us," Jan smiled, and they all held their various drinks up to a toast. "To a rockin' 2013," Jan declared.

"And a better year to come," Cody finished, before they all took gulps from their beverages, smiling dumbly at each other. 

When the countdown came to an end, and midnight rolled around, it should've been a celebration, but despite the cheers, there were sad, fading smiles all around. "Wish you were here," Mikko said quietly, and there were quiet murmurs of agreement all around.

"We'll see you in Aspen soon," Cody said firmly, and that was that.

xvx

It took four hours to drive down the snowy freeway from Denver to Aspen. The entire time, Gabe's hands shook at the wheel, and his foot tapped against the floor of his car – he kept reaching out to adjust the dial on his radio, and biting his lip until he was sure it was red and raw.

Even before he's within the city limits, he can see the ads for the 2014 X-Games splashed on every available surface. They were waiting for him in the hotel room; all five of them, crammed into the tiny space, sprawled out loosely over every available surface. 

It felt more like coming home than Stockholm ever did, but Gabe never had time to register that feeling before all five bodies were suddenly on him at once. "Missed you," Jan bellowed as Jonne smacked a kiss on his cheek and Rasmus slipped a hand casually around his waiste.

"Yeah, missed you too," Gabe smiled so wide he could feel it tugging at the corners of his eyes.

Gabe managed to squeeze three full days in Aspen into his busy schedule; he'd have to drive back to Denver the morning of a game, and skip out on two full practices, but he'd already cleared it with all the appropriate staff, citing the need for rest on his minor injury to his knee from the last game.

On the first day Gabe arrived, Thursday, they bought too much alcohol and hung out in the hotel room until Cody and Mikko disappeared into their own, joined at the hip like always, and Jan was distracted by Mina calling via Skype.

That night, Jonne tasted like rum and coke, and Rasmus tasted like whiskey. They kissed and touched and burned their way through the sheets, until Gabe was writhing under the weight of the two men, holding him down by the wrists, keeping him in place.

Later, after Gabe was cleaned up and tucked into bed, Rasmus pressed his lips to Gabe's neck and whispered, "Thank you for coming."

On Friday, the second day Gabe is in Aspen, Mikko finished in fifth at the Men's Snowboarder X final. Cody finished in third, and smiled at Mikko through all of his following interviews. Jonne picked up a gold medal in the Snowboard Big Air final to no one's surprise, with Rasmus and Jan taking silver and bronze respectively.

As a group, they wandered over to catch the last of the Men's Ski SuperPipe final and relax. "Congrats," Gabe whispered, pulling both Rasmus and Jonne possessively into his sides. He was rewarded with matching kisses on the cheek, and if Jan was laughing at them, no one had to know.

The next morning, Gabe woke up with Jonne on his dick, and if that wasn't an omen for a good day, Gabe didn't know what was. Jan, to nobody's surprise, took the gold medal in the Men's Snowboard SlopeStyle final, with Jonne finishing in third and Rasmus in fifth. 

"I wish you weren't leaving tomorrow," Jonne hummed, his medals around his neck as he plows Gabe into the hotel mattress. Gabe sighed, thinking he'd be lucky if he could even leave his friends behind, nonetheless make it to practice.

Rasmus shook him awake at 5 am, leaving him just enough time to drive back to Denver for the morning skate to prepare for the game against Detroit that evening. "Wish Cody and Mikko luck at SuperPipe for me," he whispered, kissing Jonne's hair and Rasmus' lips before taking off, his backpack in hand.

xvx

Cody's career ended on a Sunday evening at the 2014 X-Games in Aspen, Colorado. Gabe came off a hard loss on home ice to the Red Wings only to find two dozen missed calls on his phone, and a video link from Bea, who clearly kept tabs on his friends.

The video wasn't much; it was a shaky hand, and a lot of screaming. From the viewpoint, Cody was just a blur coming off bad air, with his board catching the lip of the pipe, and then he was going down, down, and down, head first, arms tangled around his board.

The medical staff ran toward his body, boots slipping on the snow, a stretcher between them. Cody wasn't moving.

"He probably broke his back," Jonne said finally after a long moment of silence he answered Gabe's call. And Gabe, he sat in his stall for a long time before making his decision. He tracked down the coach wearily, and said, "I won't be at practice tomorrow. I have a friend in the hospital." 

"Yeah, well, don't miss a game," Patrick said, and before Gabe could thank him, he was gone too. 

Cody did break his back; he broke it in three places – he'd be lucky to walk again, nonetheless snowboard. When Gabe found Cody's room, he saw Mikko lying curled at his feet like an oversized housecat, body shaking, but eyes dry. Rasmus looked like he hadn't sleep in a week from where he was standing beside the bed.

"They put him in a coma, or something," Jonne said quietly. "They told Mikko, since Cody's family isn't here yet, but Mikko's English is the worst of all of us and, well, he was a bit hysterical."

"Was?" Gabe asked, and Jonne sighed.

"He's a bit hysterical."

"For good reason," Rasmus said from where he was next to the bed. "But he'll be fine; he'll be better than fine," Rasmus insisted viciously. "He always is."

"You didn't have to come," Mikko said quietly, his voice cracking. Gabe moved next to him almost immediately with a scoff.

"Of course I did."

"You're under no obligation-"

"I wanted to be here," Gabe interrupted Mikko, shaking his head. "And I cleared it with my coach, as long as, you know, I don't miss a game."

"You won't," Mikko said firmly. "I won't let you."

"And Cody will be better by then," Jonne said. "The doctors said he should be waking up tonight or tomorrow morning, if all goes as expected.

"Good," Gabe said, though nothing about the entire situation felt good anymore.

Cody woke up at 4 am, and Mikko's soft cries woke the rest of them too. Cody couldn't talk with the tubes running down his throat, but he didn't need to. He just grabbed at Mikko with weak hands and held him there until they both fell asleep again.

"I'm going to win you an Olympic medal," Mikko promised Cody the next morning, when he thought everyone else had passed out in the chairs. "I'm going to win you the medal you were supposed to."

xvx

Life went on. The Avalanche did okay – they won games, and they lost some too, though they won more than they lost which was always positive. Cody sent weekly updates after he returned to his family in Toronto, detailing his physical therapy sessions.

Mikko, Rasmus, Jonne, and Jay continued to take competitions by storm, qualifying spectacularly for the Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics one after another, until Mikko made it too, and they all went out for drinks together in Oregon, sending Gabe (and the entire snowboarding community) a thousand pictures of their night via Instagram. 

Gabe qualified for the Olympics too, along with a few other members of the Avalanche. The Avalanche kept winning under the newfangled guidance of Patrick Roy. Cody was slowly becoming more independent. Mikko came in first place in a huge competition. Life went on.

xvx

Russia was different – not so much different from Sweden, or Colorado, or the dozen other cities Gabe had become familiar with over the years in size, shape, or colour, but instead, different in atmosphere.

No, Russia wasn't all that different – the Olympics were. The atmosphere was insane. "It's the biggest part of your life," Matt told him, wringing his hands together nervously as they strolled into the Athletes Village together. "Or so I've been told."

"Yeah?" Gabe asked, trying to appear even mildly interested as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Hot girls, long days, the best in the world in winter sports – what else could you want, Landy?"

"Nothing," Gabe said, grinning wide as he spotted a familiar brown hair looking lost in the distance. "Jan fucking Carlowe," Gabe yelled, and Matt flinched, surprised.

"What, Gabe?"

Off in the distance, Jan's head jerked up and he looked around wildly, looking slightly dazed. Gabe lifted a hand and waved half-heartedly.

"Oh, it's you," Jan said flatly when he finally approached, though his widening grin gave him away. "I guess that's okay then."

"What, I'm just okay?" Gabe laughed, giving his friend a hug. "This is Matt, he's also on Team Canada," Gabe introduced Dutchy with a friendly nudge.

"Oh, you're Canadian too? Cool," Matt said, and when the two started yammering away, Gabe only watched with a half-smile quirking at his lips.

"Yeah," Jan said, smiling. "We met through a mutual friend. Anyway, have you guys seen the statues?" Jan pointed off in the distance, and that was how Gabe ended up spending the entire day with two Canadians wandering around Sochi.

That night, as he settled into his accommodations and tried to get comfortable on the too small bed, his phone flashed to life with a text message. "Party in the Finland building," Gabe read aloud with a laugh. His roommate was gone, probably off partying or sampling the famous Russian vodka somewhere, so Gabe slipped out of his building and toward Team Finland's building without any questions.

Mikko met him outside with a smile. "You're late," he said, but he tugged Gabe into a rib crushing hug anyway. Mikko felt small in his arms, thin and breakable, and Gabe tried not to squeeze too hard. 

"How're things?" He asked, and Mikko smiled brightly.

"Good," he said. "I'm going home for a bit after Sochi, and then I think I'm moving to Toronto."

"Moving? That sounds permanent," Gabe observed, following Mikko down the halls until he stopped at a room. 

"That's the idea," Mikko said softly. "I mean, Cody's having a hard time with his parents right now, and he's not going to want to stay with them forever, but he's not really independent right now, you know? I'm going to settle down and help him out for a bit."

"That won't last long," Gabe chuckled.

"Why do you say that?"

"He won't let you," Gabe smiled. "Cody won't make you slow your life down for him."

"No, but he better appreciate it nonetheless," Mikko laughed, opening the door. "Guys, look what I found," he called into the room.

Gabe stepped through the threshold to see their friends sprawled out on the two beds in the room – from the suitcases on the floor he guessed it to be Jonne and Mikko's room. 

He was pulled down onto one of the beds by Rasmus, who immediately pushed his face into Gabe's neck, breathing in deep like he missed the scent of sweat. "You're a freak," Gabe said, but didn't push him away.

Jonne rolled over so that Gabe was sufficiently squished between the two of them, and if he had to sneak back into his room at six the next morning since he fell into a deep sleep between his two whatever, well, no one had to know where he was.

Jan, Rasmus, and Jonne all qualified for Men's SlopeStyle with grace and dignity. He watched them take the semifinals by storm the following day, and watched anxiously from the stands as they went one after another, vying for the gold.

Rasmus walked away with the bronze, Jan with the silver, and Jonne with the gold sparkling around his neck. Gabe knew he shouldn't have, but he let them open him up that night and fuck him hard, one after the other, after Jan had bounced off elsewhere.

He was sore at practice the next day, and still sore when he carefully avoided his teammates afterward to watch the Men's halfpipe semi-finals and finals. Jan didn't qualify, but Rasmus finished in fourth, and Jonne in sixth. 

Nobody expected Mikko to walk away with a bronze medal around his neck, but later, as they pushed flowers into his hands and pointed the cameras his way he kissed the medal and said, "I told you I'd win one for you Cody."

Team Sweden took their first game against the Czech Republic. They then shut out Switzerland, won against Latvia, blew out Slovenia and qualified for the semi-finals against Finland. "Gabe, you know I love you," Jonne said dangerously low, as he crawled up Gabe's body.

"Yes," Gabe hummed, thankful Mikko had gone out elsewhere that night (Gabe got the impression Jonne may have been chasing him away). 

"You know Sweden isn't going to win tomorrow," Jonne hummed between kisses as he dragged his hands over every inch of skin he could reach. "Finland isn't going to lose to Sweden again-"

"We're taking home that gold medal," Gabe snapped back. "I'll make sure of-Oh!" He interrupted himself mid-sentence with a moan as Jonne tugged his pants off and pressed a hand between his legs.

"Yeah, that's it Gabe, keep talking," Jonne grinned.

"Staring without me?" Gabe jerked his head up at the third voice only to see Rasmus leaning casually against the doorway. "Should've locked the door – anyone could've walked in here," he said, but his eyes were wide and predatory.

"I was just warming him up for you," Jonne defended himself quickly, giving Gabe's erection a pointed squeeze as he said so, earning another soft groan in response.

"Yeah, okay, whatever," Rasmus said, peeling off his shirt as he made his way toward the bed. "I'm sure I can work with that," he licked his lips hungrily. Gabe let out another low groan.

"I don't care which one of you works with that, as long as someone does," Gabe snapped, and there was no more talking after that as Rasmus crawled over Gabe's body where Jonne had him splayed on the sheets. 

Sweden won against Finland, advancing to face Canada in the gold medal game and leaving Mikko and Jonne fuming in the stands. "You're impossible," Gabe laughed; he was sweaty and tired, but he'd ducked away from his team as soon as possible to corner Jonne near the building where Team Finland resided and Gabe and Rasmus had taken up camp lately.

"You're walking on enemy territory," Jonne snapped, but there was no venom behind it as he reached out to pull Gabe closer. "I mean, you should be out celebrating with the team. You're guaranteed a fucking medal."

"Yeah, I can't let you one up me with your shiny gold medal," Gabe winked, and then backed away. "You're right though, I should be celebrating with my team."

"Hey, come back here; I wasn't being serious," Jonne cried indignantly, stretching an arm out to haul Gabe up against his chest. "I wasn't done with you yet."

"Oh yeah, what were you going to do?" Gabe asked cheekily, grinning as Jonne leaned forward, pushing his nose into Gabe's neck.

"Well," Jonne smirked. "Rasmus is in my room and I think he might have some ideas, if you're okay with that."

"Yeah," Gabe huffed with a laugh. "I can drink with the guys later. I’m okay with that."

"Good," Rasmus grinned from where he walked through the door. "Not that I'm against public displays of affection, but you were taking too long." And he grabbed Jonne and Gabe by their shirts, and dragged them inside the building.

"Hey, uh, guys," Jonne blurted suddenly as they collapsed on the bed in a pile of limbs. "I think we used all the lube." Rasmus let out a groan, as Gabe only laughed.

"Guess you'll get a better work out with your mouth then," he winked.

xvx

The night before the gold medal game, Matt and Gabe picked up a few beers and brought them to a nearby park, just the two of them. "I can't believe it's almost over," Matt said wistfully, gazing off against the setting sun. He leaned back onto the bench as the snow slowly drifted down around them.

Gabe knew what he meant; Gabe knew, because it was not unfamiliar to him – it was the same feeling he'd had at the end of summer, thinking about leaving Rasmus and Jonne to their own lives as he returned to the security of his routine in Colorado.

"Two more days," Matt sighed, "And we won't see anyone here again for a long time." Gabe wanted to say it wasn't true – he wanted to lie, to himself, to Matt – but he didn't.

"I'm going to miss it," he said, thinking of the nights squished on the bed with Jonne and Rasmus, listening to Mikko snuffling on the bed on the other side of the room. He thought about how nice it was to have them at an arms' reach again, knowing he'd have to leave it all again – that no matter where they ended up together, someone would always be leaving. 

"No matter what happens tomorrow," Matt said, taking a gulp from his beer, "We're going back to Colorado with medals around our necks."

Gabe thought about how Rasmus and Jonne weren't going to be there in the morning; about the crisp Denver air and his empty bed. He sighed. "Yeah, and it'll be like this whole adventure never happened, sans souvenirs."

"Don't say that," Matt scolded him. "These are supposed to be the memories that last the rest of our lives." Gabe thought about Jonne; he thought about toned bodies and Rasmus' dumb giggle. He thought about snowboarders and Mikko standing on the podium with the bronze medal around his neck smiling like he'd just won the world.

"Yeah, I suppose they are," Gabe said, and finished his beer with a gulp. "I'm going to bed, I think."

"I'll walk you," Matt said, standing and stretching, then shivering as the snow hit his exposed neck. "The Team Sweden building is on the way to the Team Canada building anyway."

"It's fine, you can go ahead," Gabe said, toeing the thin layer of snow with a small smile. "I'm heading back to the Team Finland building."

"Oh," Matt grinned with a cheesy wink. "I didn't know you met a Finnish girl."

"Not really," Gabe said, but Matt was already walking off, a bit unstable from the beers, and Gabe made his own way slowly back to the familiar blue and white building.

"Hey," Jan greeted him from where he and Mikko were sprawled on a bed watching a movie. Gabe grunted a response that he wasn't sure was English, and crawled into Jonne's bed with a high pitched whine. 

"Well, hello to you too," Rasmus laughed as Gabe nuzzled against his neck. "You smell like beer."

"I was drinking with Matt," Gabe explained.

"Matt, he's the Canadian guy from your team, right?" Jonne asked, and Gabe nodded into Rasmus' neck.

"He's a real nice guy," Jan smiled, and you guys look cozy, so maybe Mikko and I should, uh, take our leave."

"Yeah, that's a brilliant idea," Jonne grinned wolfishly from where he stood.

"Right, we're out," Mikko said, hauling himself up and following Jan out the door. "You guys better be done when I get back."

Rasmus made an affirming noise and then Jan and Mikko were gone. "So," Jonne sighed, smile drooping. "We still don't have lube." Gabe wriggled down Rasmus' body, pressing a trail of kisses down his spine, pulling his shorts down and pressing a kiss to the dimples on his back.

"I think we'll work around that," Gabe grinned, all teeth and tongue as he yanked Rasmus' shorts and underwear off. 

"Gabe, what're you doing?" Rasmus asked, twisting around as Gabe gripped at his ass. Gabe shrugged, pulling back.

"I dunno, I just thought I'd try-"

"Yeah, do it," Jonne demanded, voice low.

If last summer Gabe thought giving a blowjob was weird, eating out ass was a whole other ballpark. He received rough instructions from Jonne who positioned himself over Gabe, adjusting their bodies so that Jonne could easily mold Gabe to his liking.

"There's a fucking technique to this shit," Gabe laughed afterward, toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he eyed Rasmus, still lying blissed out on the bed.

"Whatever it is, you've found it," Jonne laughed. "I don't think I've ever got that face from him by putting my tongue up his ass."

"Probably because it's usually the other way around," Rasmus rolled his eyes from where he lay immobile. "Gabe's got a good mouth." 

Gabe grinned wide under the praise, toothpaste dribbling from the side of his mouth. Jonne took one look at him and laughed, head thrown back dramatically. "Finish cleaning your mouth," Jonne commanded. "Then get back here and fuck me." 

"Yeah okay," Gabe said around his toothbrush, because how could he deny he wanted that?

xvx

Sweden lost to Canada. Sweden not only lost, they lost spectacularly, as Canada shut them out 3 – 0. There were a lot of handshakes, watery smiles, flowers and photographs, then Gabe was walking unfeelingly through the arena, and heading back to pack up his things before the closing ceremony. He gulped, tracing the now familiar path with his teammates until he reached the building.

"Good game," he told them.

"Good game," they told him, and it was weird, how the weight of silver around his neck felt a lot heavier than it should, since there was no victory to celebrate. They'd lost.

Then his things were packed, and there wasn't time – he was rushed down to the arena for the closing ceremonies, falling easily into the flood of blue and yellow, and falling in step with his teammates. A few of them laughed, joked, smiled for Instagram pictures and held back tears.

Gabe just stared straight ahead unseeingly, casting his gaze along the hordes, trying to find a familiar face amongst the red and white, or the blue and white, or anywhere that wasn't team Sweden shying away from the spotlight with their silver medals on. He didn't see one.

The closing ceremony dragged on, and when it was over, all over, they were sent to their rooms for their bags with barely an hour to spare before their bus was to take them to the airport. The entire atmosphere, the whole world dispersing from the arena, it left an imprint on Gabe – it was his first Olympics, but hopefully not his last, and next time, he vowed, he'd leave with a gold medal around his neck.

"There you are," the voice said, and Gabe was spun around outside the Team Sweden building to find himself face to face with Jonne's neck. 

"Oh, it's you."

"Jeez, you could sound a bit more enthused since you won't be seeing me for a while," Jonne said, squeezing him tight around the middle then pulling him back to look at him critically. Gabe waited for Jonne to tell him he played a good game, but that didn't happen, because Jonne wasn't like that.

"You guys put up a good fight," Rasmus said for the both of them, and then they sandwiched him between their bodies for a long, secure hug. "I have to go," Rasmus said sadly, placing his hand gently on the back of Gabe's neck and tugging him up into a quick kiss before doing the same to Jonne. "Don't kill yourselves, yeah?"

"Never do," Jonne said, and like that, Rasmus was gone, leaving a trail of his scent in his wake. 

"I was just thinking about what Rasmus told me, about your mom, and how you two never saw eye to eye," Gabe said quietly, sliding an arm around Jonne's waist, turning back to face him. "You know, my mom loves you. In the offseason, or whenever, you're always welcome to join us."

"I'd like that," Jonne said, quickly kissing the side of Gabe's head. "Maybe this summer, I can get to know her better."

"Oh, you want to?" Gabe asked, genuinely surprised.

"You know," Jonne sighed, looking Gabe in the eye. "I want to know everything about you. Your family's just another piece of that."

"Oh."

"In case you haven't noticed," Jonne shrugged, ducking his head and scuffing his toe into the ground, "I want to be together, you know, properly."

"Properly," Gabe took a deep breath. "Like, boyfriends?"

"Yeah," Jonne said softly, looking up again. "Rasmus never was into that, you know? He never wanted to go to movies or eat dinner at fancy restaurants and hold hands while walking on the beach and shit; I didn't ever get to do any romantic stuff for him."

"You like it," Gabe said. It wasn't a question.

"I do," Jonne confirmed. "And I want to do it for you, if you'd let me."

"You want to woo me," Gabe grinned gleefully.

"Well if you put it like that," Jonne pouted.

"Why?" Gabe asked after a moment of silence. "Why do you like it? You really didn't strike me as the type."

"I'm just so fucking sick of hiding who I am," Jonne spat on the ground outside the athletes village, huffing an angry puff of air into the bitter cold. "I just want a fairy tale, you know? I wasn't ever allowed to be Cinderella, so the least I can do is play the role of the prince or princess.

"I guess I shouldn't expect you to know what that's like though. You work hard and you get what you want. You don't need a fucking prince."

Jonne was right; Gabe didn't know – he needed hockey, and that was about it. "No, I don't," he said truthfully. "But," he grinned, eyes flickering up and down Jonne's body, "I suppose I could learn to want it."

Jonne laughed; the sound was loud and familiar, and sent warmth crawling into the pit of Gabe's stomach. "It's a good thing you've already proved yourself a fast learner. Now go grab your bag, or you're going to miss your plane."

"What about you?" Gabe asked. Jonne shrugged.

"I already missed mine to say goodbye to you."

"Jonne," Gabe sighed, and if later at the airport he was buying a flight from Sochi to Helsinki before boarding the plane to Colorado, well, Matt didn't mention it.

xvx

The Colorado Avalanche made the playoffs. The entire city was abuzz; from Toronto, Cody and Mikko sent their congrats in the form of a goofy video message. Rasmus offered him a bout of incredibly good phone sex, Jan called to drunkenly scream in his ear, and Jonne – Jonne showed up at his door.

He stayed. He cooked for Gabe, making him meals like his mom used to make him as a kid, and game one tasted like the best chili Gabe had ever eaten in his life, and following the shutout, a mind-blowing blowjob when Gabe was too tired to do much else.

Game two happened in a similar vein, and following the game three loss, Jonne came home with a tube of chocolate flavoured lube that they'd never tried, and had lavished Gabe's body until his muscles were too sore to move, and Jonne had to drag him into the bath to relax.

"What about you?" Gabe asked that night. "Don't you have competitions?" And Jonne had laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm done, Gabe. I got a gold medal from the fucking Olympics. Better to go out with a bang, right? It's not what I wanted to be doing anyway."

"Do you know what you want to be doing?"

"I used to think I did, but not anymore. I'm going to pick up a job at the supermarket or something for a while, I think," Jonne said, and Gabe didn't ask whether it was legal for Jonne to work in the US because all he heard was Jonne smiling and saying, "Don't worry about me. I'm staying."

Minnesota tied the series at two games as they won the next one, and Gabe didn't even have energy to eat – let Jonne feed him, and snuggle up together on the bed as he lamented the daily use of his four appendages. 

They won game five, but lost game six, bringing the series to an end at seven in Denver.

And it was over in seven as they glided off the ice after a stifling handshake line, and Jonne was there when Gabe got home, waiting with open arms as he cried for the first time in years. A year ago, Gabe would've invited a few guys over the next few days to hang out – he'd have a barbeque and they'd get on with the summer.

But the Colorado Avalanche a year ago would not have been in the playoffs. 

Jonne cracked a beer, pressed it into Gabe's hand, and kissed him on the forehead. "Rasmus will be here in the morning," he said, and that was that.

"Let's have a quiet summer," Rasmus said softly after he arrived, crawling into bed with Jonne and Gabe, and carding his fingers through their hair, petting them until they were both reduced to useless, keening messes. 

"We can go back to Sweden; stay with my mom, and hang out with Bea," Gabe offered.

"We can stop in Norway," Rasmus grinned. "You can meet my dad."

And that was what they did. 

In fact, for a professional snowboarder, an unofficially retired professional snowboarder, a professional hockey player, his twin sister, and their friends, it was a spectacularly quiet summers of renting a cabin by the lake, late breakfasts with Gabe's mom, and golfing with Rasmus' dad.

The entire summer was so unspectacular that even Jan and Mina's visit couldn't leave memorable ripples into the calm the three of them had naturally created around them.

It was peacefully calm, except for one day in early June when Gabe woke up, Jonne and Rasmus took him on a long walk down to his favourite lake on the outskirts of town, and when he went home, Bea was crying and there was a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. 

"I know we haven't known each other for long," Jonne said to her, and Bea just shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she hugged him. 

"No, no, that's not- he just, I always thought… I was so scared he was going to end up alone, and now he's got both of you, and that's… he's really, I’m really happy," she explained, tears still falling. 

"Thank you," Rasmus said quietly that night between kisses after Jonne had disappeared into the bathroom to wipe the come off his face. "For giving him what I never could."

"But that's why I'm here," Gabe snuggled against Rasmus, giving him a light kiss, hand trailing down to squeeze his ass. To give both of you what you were missing before."

"Yeah," Rasmus hummed into his mouth.

"And that's what we love you for," Jonne interrupted them with a smirk, throwing himself between the two of them.

"Love you too," Gabe laughed as Rasmus leaned over to tickle Jonne's sides.

xvx

The ring felt oddly heavy on his finger for something he'd been wearing for months when he walked into the locker room at the start of the season. Nobody noticed it at first; there were a few comments on how Gabe had been surprisingly absent the past summer, but when he explained he'd been in Sweden, they understood.

Nobody had been to Gabe's for an extended period of time since Jonne moved in, so there was nothing to be said. In fact, he made it through many practices, and the first two preseason games before anyone took note of the new jewelry. 

It was Stastny who noticed it after a preseason game as they were taking off their jerseys. Gabe had just pulled his over his head when Paul looked over appreciatively at the plain silver band around his finger and said, "Congratulations."

"What are we congratulating Landy for? He didn't score a goal," Nate snorted, and just like that, everyone was clambering over to his stall to get a better look at his ring.

Questions came flying from all directions. "Who's the girl? When's the wedding? Who was dumb enough to say yes?"

"It's not a girl, not for a while, and I didn't ask," Gabe laughed, ducking toward the showers. 

Afterward, Matt cornered him in the parking lot. "I thought we were friends, Gabe."

"We are," Gabe smiled softly. "I just, I wasn't sure how you were going to react, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," Matt clapped him on the shoulder. "I never would've thought you were gay."

"You don't know the half of it," Gabe grinned. He thought about how Rasmus and Jonne were together in his house, as Rasmus had a break between competitions. He fired off a quick message to them before turning to Matt.

"Come over for a drink. You can meet them."

"Them? You mean there's more than one?" Matt's voice went a bit squeaky at the end.

"Yeah," Gabe grinned wide and proud. "Them."

xvx Epilogue xvx

The wedding invitations were mailed out, except for Matt's. Gabe wanted to deliver that one himself.

The hall was rented, the cake and catering was ordered, and the party was planned. Mikko and Cody who was fully mobile from the waist up and occasionally could walk a few feet on his own, a huge improvement since his accident, took Rasmus out for his stag.

Jan and Mina took Jonne out for a night of unmentionables, and returned him to Gabe and Rasmus with handcuffs around his wrists, whipped cream in his hair, a handprint on his face, and a permanently scarred look upon his face.

Gabe let Matt plan his party; he let the guys on the team take him out to the clubs, and drank until he couldn't feel his face. "I can't believe you're getting married," Matt laughed, and Gabe laughed too, because five years ago when he first fell asleep on Jonne's shoulder, if someone had said he'd marry him, Gabe would've laughed until he cried.

They had the wedding in Stockholm, the mid-point between Norway and Finland, like Gabe was the mid-point between Jonne and Rasmus on most days. 

The cake was rich and velvety, his mom and Bea cried enough tears to fill the river, and everyone that was important to them showed up laughing about memories from Sochi and ribbed Jonne about how his master degree in business was coming along.

It was a lovely wedding that ended the night with a gorgeous honeymoon suite and kisses that tasted like the most expensive wine that Mikko could find. For the most part though, the three of them kept it to themselves. 

His mom, Rasmus' dad, Bea, Jan, Mina, Cody, Mikko and Matt all knew that Rasmus fit into the equation despite the wedding bands that only lived on Jonne and Gabe's fingers, but they knew that with Gabe's reputation as the first openly gay NHL player, it was a risky move to bring him into the picture.

So when Nate walked in on Gabe and Rasmus connected at the lips in the hallway, he balked, looking downright offended. "Gabe, what're you-"

"Hey, hey, Nate, it's okay," Jonne said quickly, running around the corner from where he'd been entertaining guests. "I mean, it's more than okay. God, I guess… We should tell you the truth."

"The truth," Nate repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Jonne laughed. "Did Gabe ever tell you how we met?" Nate shook his head, and Jonne rolled his eyes, prodding his husband. "Well, go on then. I like this kid. Tell him the real story."

"Well," Gabe laughed, glancing awkwardly between Rasmus and Jonne. "I, uh, I fell asleep on him on a plane." He braced himself for the laughter following the statement and continued, "Rasmus came a bit after." 

As his teammates were preoccupied laughing with Jonne about the nap that changed Gabe's life, Rasmus nudged him lightly; he leaned over, laced his fingers in Gabe's, and whispered, "I've never seen him look so happy before."

"I don't think I've ever seen you look this happy either," Gabe said, reaching forward to tug Jonne to his side, letting himself settle with the scent of citrus and vanilla mingling in the air, nestled between the two men that rooted him to the best aspects of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> oh, jeez, I usually have a lot more to say in endnotes, but this time I really don't.  
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
